Return
by daziyly
Summary: Ten years after the ruffs brutally killed the puffs, the girls have separated for their own safety and have gone on carrying normal lives. But when the girls meet again after a few chance encounters, they spell trouble for the boys in more ways than one.
1. Introductions

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own the power puff girls, or their awesomeness or the rowdy ruff boys.

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><p><em><em>

_It had been years. 7 years since they crept back into the real world. 10 years since the greatest downfall in history. 10 years since he had given his life so they could live. 10 years too long._

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><p>~Buttercup~<p>

Something big was happening, she could feel it. Deep in her subconscious a voice was screaming danger, but she brushed it away. It was always there lately, most likely everyone else could hear it too. What was safe anymore in a world run by villains? Her fists were itching to punch someone, to do some good. But that was no longer an option. They were too strong. Much too strong. And she was just too weak.

"_Whaddya mean no powers?" Buttercup asked, wondering why she felt so…fragile._

"_It was the only way I could bring you back, girls. Perhaps with time they'll come back, but I'm not certain," he said, groaning._

She shook the memory from her head, and continued on her walk to work; making sure her coat was tied tightly to protect her from the wind, perverts and muggers. They were everywhere lately. She was just about to step into _Chez_ when she saw her.

_Does she see me too? Does she recognize me?_ She thought, remembering how her hair was now long and wavy. But Blossom there was no mistaking…her hair was cropped just past her shoulders, a soft auburn and curled only at the end. Blossom continued walking, not even a second glance.

With a sigh at her sister not noticing her, she walked inside.

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><p>~Bubbles~<p>

"Oh, you ignorant girl! Look at what you did to my whites!" Mrs. Furn screeched, throwing pink clothes at her.

She kept quiet, accepting her punishment, not even flinching as zippers and buttons scratched her face. She didn't even mention that last week Mrs. Furn had wanted to do her own laundry, no, she couldn't say that. She needed the money and she wasn't about to get fired.

"I should fire you!" She screamed, breathing heavily once she ran out of things to throw, "They're all ruined! You can imagine this is coming out of your pay check! Clean this up!" When Mrs. Furn stormed out, slamming the door to the room, Belle let out a small giggle. That was how she dealt with everything—there was always something to smile at. Sure, she just lost $3,000 but when Mrs. Furn was angry her face went very red and her hair seemed to explode. Not to mention her eccentric hand movements. Belle sighed and began to put the clothes away, before finishing putting her uniform on. It was your typical maid outfit, a black dress with a white apron, her blond hair wrapped up in a bun with a black tie. It was comfortable, but often times Mr. Furn looked at her with lust in his eyes and she felt extremely uncomfortable. Fortunately, Mr. Furn was hardly ever home due to his business at the RRB Corporation. Unfortunately, today was not one of those days. Belle did her best to cover up, and with a sigh she left her small bright room and went into the dark hallway.

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><p>~Blossom~<p>

_It was her. I'm sure of it. She noticed me too…maybe 7 years of separation is enough, maybe we should speak again…No, that won't work, I don't even know where Bubbles is, and besides, that might not have been Buttercup—_Blossom's thoughts were cut short as her phone began to vibrate. She whipped out her phone and pressed talk.

"Beatrice?" a voice asked, calling out the name she had grown used to over the course of five years.

"Yes Abby?" She responded. Beatrice had begun to prefer her 'fake' name over her real one. It helped her assimilate into the crowds, and go unnoticed. It helped her forget about her sisters, it helped her forget about her 'dad' and it helped her forget that she had given up the fight.

"I can't go in tonight, can you switch shifts with me?" Beatrice groaned inwardly. She hated working Friday nights—that's when all the sickos came in. But she knew tonight was Ben's 3rd birthday, and if Beatrice had a son, she'd probably ask the same of her coworkers.

"Sure Abby. Tell him I say happy birthday,"

"Thank you so much Beatrice!" With a click she was gone, and Beatrice made her way to _XXX_, mentally prepping herself for the long night to come.

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><p><strong>Author's note: OH GOSH THE SUSPENSE? amirite? I am posting more immediately and reviews are appreciated yo.<strong>


	2. Buttercup

~Buttercup~

"Bianca! Zer you are! I vuz so vorried you vould not come!" Madame DeFranc's painfully cheerful voice called.

_That's right, your name is Bianca now. Not Buttercup. We didn't separate for no reason. That battle is someone else's fight. _

Bianca returned the smile, how could she not? She had known Madame DeFranc for seven years now, and she had become a mother to Bianca. No, she was her mother. She certainly acted like it. Madame had moved to Townsville when France was first invaded, and she set up shop on Main Street in Townsville, replacing what used to be a pawn shop. Bianca was the first person to apply for a position and has been happily working for Madame since she was sixteen.

"Sorry I'm late, my alarm clock didn't go off," she said, putting on her black waitress smock that tied around her hips.

"Ah, yes, ze RRB Corporation 'as been cutting off power every other week or so," Bianca tried hard not to growl at the mention of the Rowdy-Ruff Boys Corporation, or as everyone referred to it—RRB Corp. They had been messing with the electricity for nearly two months now, "Oh, Bianca, don't be angry. It is not so bad, yes? In France, ven they first invaded, many people ver dying," she said with a sad shake of her head. Madame DeFranc's light French accent always made things seem more sad then they actually were—of course, people dying was tragic on its own, but the way she said heavy things with such a light tone, the way she made herself seem fragile made every bad thing worse, and every good thing better.

"I'm sorry, Madame,"

"Ah, it iz fine! Get to your positions, Ay vill go back into ze kitchen, it is nine oh-clock!" she said with a smile, lifting her spatula up.

"Katie! Eric!" Bianca called, waking up the two other waiters who were falling asleep in the booth. They jumped up with a jolt and quickly went to their positions: Eric, by the door and Katie beside Bianca. Costumers piled in, as soon as the clock struck 9:05, as happened every day. People of Townsville, and all over loved Chez. It was a medium sized café with great food and even better service. Most of all, it was safe. Cheerful quiet music always played in the soundproof café, blocking out the honks, the sirens, everything that was wrong with the outside world. The colours were warm yellows and oranges, with pictures of unpolluted beaches, and decorated with little flowers in the middle of the wall all the way around. The lighting gave off a sunshine effect, and it was always just the right warmth.

The best part of course, the bullet proof windows. Even people waiting were comfortable—Madame DeFranc installed a waiting room after more and more people came every day. Peaceful chatter, happy music, warm colours and beautiful décor. The perfect escape. Around noon was when it was most quiet, only one or two tables would be taken up, and that was when Bianca would take her break.

"It's really great service here!" A man said to her, as she sat down.

"Thank you. Madame cares very much about quality food and service," She said, with a tired smile. After rushing around for 3 hours, her break was her time for coffee and a chance to sit down.

"It's too bad RRB is going to shut you guys down," he said with a _tsk._

"What?" She snapped back into reality, alert.

"Haven't you heard? If you don't have the stamp of approval from them, your company is shut down. They give you a surprise visit every day for a week, and if they don't like it, you have 15 hours to evacuate before your shut down,"

"Well they haven't tried our food," she said awkwardly, though she didn't believe it herself.

"They've shut down 25 restaurants in the past 4 weeks. You know how they are," he said with a shrug, as he pulled out his wallet and left fifty dollars on the table. Bianca nodded weakly.

"Vell eet vas nice vhile it lasted," Madame said sadly, "'Ave you told Katie and Ereek?" she said, still stirring her soup.

"Yeah. Katie's still sulking. She really liked this place, you know," Bianca said solemnly.

"I know, zat is vhy I 'ired 'er," Madame said, referring to the fact that Katie was only 17 years old, and her parents were recently arrested for owning a three bedroom house when they only needed two. _Poor kid didn't even get to say goodbye…at least I did…_

With that, Katie came rushing in through the door, agitating it as it swung back and forth until coming to a stop.

"Why don't you come see what the cat dragged in?" Madame checked the security camera, and frowned at Katie.

"Vatch vat you say, Katie,"

"Who is it?" Bianca asked, trying to see the screen. Madame responded by pushing her lightly away.

"You are my best waitress, I trust you vill 'andle zis accordingly," she said, nodding me out, "Table zree," She stumbled out and pulled out her note pad, looking down as she made her familiar way to Table three, wondering who they were talking about. As she looked up, she nearly stopped breathing.


	3. Bubbles

~Bubbles~

She was cleaning the bathroom when she overheard the conversation.

"She is just so incompetent it makes me wonder how she is still alive!" Mrs. Furd screamed.

"Who?" Mr. Furd asked, obviously not paying attention to his wife, either on his laptop or reading the newspaper. It never failed to amaze Belle at how well she knew her employers.

"The maid! Who else?"

"Belle, you mean?"

"Who cares what her name is? I swear she was dropped on her head as a baby. Numerous times," she said, grumbling.

Belle felt as though she had just received a slap to the face.

_How dare she say that about my intelligence? She has no idea how smart I really am! If she did, well, I'd be out of a job! _She thought, angrily and then she smiled gently, _Calm down, she's just frustrated is all._

"Well tell me where we can get a better maid and I'll fire her," he said simply, and that shut Mrs. Furd up. The three of them all knew that nowadays it was impossible to find a good maid. And it was true, she did not talk back, she did not complain, she did not demand more pay, she did not talk out of turn, and she has not stolen anything. Finding someone like her was next to impossible.

"Don't upset her. I need this place spiff and span for next Friday evening. You know I'm having business associates from my company over for dinner,"

"I know that, but do you think she does? She has the attention span of a fruit fly!" she screeched, as she stormed upstairs. Belle giggled silently at the thought of Mrs. Furd throwing her arms around in anger as she finished cleaning the bathroom. She hesitated as she was about to leave the bathroom, knowing that it was now time to clean the kitchen as it was 5PM, and then she had to help cook. She hated cleaning around Mr. Furd, the way he stared at her.

_Oh, you're just imagining things. Mr and Mrs. Furd are deeply in love and he's just simply kind to you._ She thought, trying to reassure herself, even though she had never seen the two be affectionate towards each other. _So what if he looks at you weird? He's not going to do anything, silly!_

She smiled, and decided she was right and she walked out and turned the corner into the vast kitchen.

"Good afternoon, sir," she said, curtsying. She ignored the fact that he put the newspaper down to look at her, when he clearly did not do so for his wife. _Just being polite, Belle._

"Belle," he said, still staring at her as she got up and began to pick up the dirty dishes around the kitchen. She shuddered slightly as she remembered the last time she cleaned in front of Mr. Furd, four months ago. He had made her pick up various items she was certain he had purposely thrown on the floor. At the time, she didn't realize that by bending over she was showing him her underwear, and has learned better since then. She was cleaning the dishes when he spoke.

"How old are you, Belle?" he asked, staring at her intently while she averted her eyes.

"Twenty-three, sir," she said quietly, as a stray strand of hair fell in front of her face. She went to go push it back, but he was already there, as he reached up and pushed it away forward. She tried not to recoil.

"If you had kept your head up, that would not have happened," he said, sternly. The Furds were all about presentation, and every time Belle's uniform was wrinkled, or not perfectly centered she was severely reprimanded. The same went for every time her hair was less than perfect, "You're lucky its just me and nobody else here, otherwise you would have been in serious trouble," he said, as he went to sit back down.

"I'm sorry sir, it won't happen again,"

To say the Furds weren't good to her would possibly be the understatement of the year. Mrs. Furd was constantly yelling at her for things she didn't do, and Mr. Furd treated her like his doll—every time she was out of order, she would be reprimanded. Not to mention the way he looked at her. But Belle had nowhere else to go, the pay was good and they provided her with shelter and food. If she quit, or was fired, she would end up on the streets. And then she would end up dead. Twice. Except this time, no sacrifices. When it was nine o'clock and she switched with the night maid, Serena, Belle went back into her room and changed into her black sweatpants and white tank top—she was allowed no colour, whatsoever, the ultimate cruelty to her bubbly character. She opened her small white laptop she had saved up to buy and did what she did every night. Opened a search engine, and typed in: Power Puff Girls.

The response were massive, and she quickly clicked through to news articles, clicking on the latest one.

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><p><strong>Townsville Loses Hope.<strong>

**By Gary Stevens**

It has been ten years since the defeat of the Power Puff Girls, ten years since the greatest battle Townsville—no, the world, has seen. Each and every one of us has held out, for _ten_ years, hoping that they would return by some miracle, even though we all saw them fall. Even though we know that were they back, they would not let this go on. Perhaps we would ask too much of them. Perhaps we should have done our best to help. Perhaps we put too much pressure on the then-thirteen year old girls…

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><p>Belle stopped reading, her heart couldn't take the pain anymore. She went under her mattress and pulled out a wrinkled, old photo.<p>

_My sisters._ She thought, as a tear fell. _Happy anniversary._

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><p><strong>Author's Note: EHHHHH? Blossom's up next people...3 updates in one day :D? Review D:<strong>


	4. Blossom

~Blossom~

"Flame?" The stage hand called.

"Just about ready!" Beatrice responded, fixing her red sequined bra. She smacked her lips and clicked past the stage hand as he put his arms around her shoulders.

"Special guest today. Don't mess up. I wanted Lilac but obviously she's busy,"

"What I'm not good enough for closing?"

"You are, you've never done it before,"

"I'll do great," she said, agitated.

"Go get 'em then," he said pushing her out and slapping her on the bum. Closing was always a big solo, whereas regularly they would do group numbers.

_You're a pro, Beatrice, you got this. _She said, trying to shake the nerves out.

She had always wanted to be a dancer. She never thought she'd be this kind. But the way she moved around stage was hypnotic; all eyes were on her, no distractions. The music playing was loud, slow and sultry, perfect for her. She moved around like fire—and that was why they called her Flame, after all. She was lip syncing, singing was not her forte. The cheers and cat calls disappeared in her mind; she was the only one up on stage. This was her favourite part. She knew what happened on nights with special guests though, and she knew that on those nights she had to get up close and personal.

She was stopped as she was about to go for last rounds.

"To the couch," he shouted over the music to her.

"The couch? But I thought only the closest customers-,"

"Special guest, remember? He better leave happy," he shoved her onstage. Again she danced around, ignoring the money thrown at her, as she carefully stepped down the center stairs, sauntering towards the beige suede couch.

_Special guests…they're always some fact old guy._ She thought, thinking back to how every girl always felt bad for whoever was closing for special guests.

"Hello se-," she stopped herself short as she recognized the figure, her eyes widened—_It can't be him, it's not him,_ "xy," she finished, going back into her routine. She reached her hand out and ran it down his white tee-shirt, ignoring the disinterested look he had on his face. Throughout her whole dance he stared at her with blank eyes, and when she was done, he gave her ninety dollars, got up and left. She walked her way back to the stage, receiving several slaps and squeezes, blew a kiss and walked off.

She handed the money to the stage hand, and as per usual he gave her 60 %, and he took forty.

"Great job, Flame, maybe you should close Fridays more often," he said. She smiled weakly in response. When he left the dressing room, Beatrice began to change. She always hated walking back after a Friday night shift—she almost always caught a ride, but most of the girls left early already. She tightened her coat and started to walk home.

_It's three AM, B. You're seeing things, like you always do when you have a really bad headache. It wasn't _really_ him. When you get home, go straight to bed and tomorrow we'll go to the doctor's. _

The sounds of the night caused her to pick up her pace and before she knew it, she was home. Before going to bed, she opened her safe, like she did every year on the same day and pulled out a well kept photo, that looked as though it was taken yesterday.

"One day," she whispered, kissing it, carefully putting it back in and locking it before going back to bed.

She woke up with a pounding headache, as she usually did after working late nights.

She rolled out of bed with a groan and began her stretches, before changing into black pants and a loose pink top.

"Prrow," Beatrice smiled at the little cat.

"Hi Cuddles," she reached down to pet the happy white cat, who looked up at her with big blue eyes.

"Meow," she responded, causing Beatrice to smile.

Beatrice waved good-bye as she left her apartment, locking and dead-bolting three times behind her.

"Hello James," she said politely to the man behind the desk in the lobby, who responded with a short grunt.

She stepped out into the city and started to walk East, going down the familiar route to Doctor. Rose.

Not very many people walked these days, and that was evident when you saw all the roads backed up. Either you had a car, or you walked. Taxis could not be trusted anymore, and Beatrice had learned from the last time—she had been cheated out of nearly two hundred dollars. She had to reschedule her appointment from yesterday—Abby had called her after all, and Beatrice had to learn all the numbers—especially closing.

She was nearly there when she saw her again. She looked different—her hair was longer, but she still had the same eyes, the same hard, calculating eyes.

_We can't be seen together. We're just not strong enough._ Beatrice reminded herself. Again, she continued walking by as though she hadn't noticed her. When she arrived at the clinic, she was greeted by the secretary—Opal, who gave Beatrice a soft smile she found hard to return.

"She'll see you now, miss," Beatrice nodded a response and headed inside.

"Beatrice, nice to see you again,"

"Nice to see you too, Doctor. Sorry about the cancellation,"

"That's quite alright, Beatrice, things came up, I understand. Now it says here you've been getting headaches?"

"Yes, pounding headaches. In fact I have one right now," She winced.

"Hmm, well, we'll have to do some more research. Do you have a family history of headaches?"

"No," she said, too quickly.

"Okay…well we'll try some different medications, and we'll decide on which one works better. Here's three different kinds. Fidal, Evein, and Gainth. Fidal works within half an hour, Evein works within forty-five minutes and Gainth works within 15, each lasting for 6 hours. Try one at a time,"

"In what order? Does it matter?"

"How about alphabetical? Wait two days before trying a new medication,"

"Okay, thank you Doctor,"

"Call me when you've either found one that works or if you need another brand,"

"Will do," she said, cheerfully.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Special thanks to 100GreenSun for reviewing! Thanks for the kind words :D!<br>If there is anything you don't particularly like about my story, let me know and I'll see what I can do! Please review...and more soon! Like really soon! Like it's uploading...so possibly forty-five minutes soon!**

**I live to please my readers 0.0 **


	5. A Small Sacrifice

~Buttercup~

_Butch. Out of all the restaurants he had to pick mine. Why couldn't he have come on one of my sick days? Oh, he'll recognize me in an instant! All of our hard work to separate ourselves…ruined! By me! I should have bought contacts! I should have died my hair! I should have—he's staring at me…why is he staring at me?_

"Well? Are you going to take our order or not?" He growled.

_He doesn't recognize me…_

Her vision suddenly widened and she noticed that he was surrounded by…girls. Four of them.

"That is what I'm here for," she said, trying to sound cheery.

"I'll have a cheeseburger. She'll have the salad," he said, referring to the swooning brunette under his arm, "The rest will have water," he said, absentmindedly waving to the jealous looking blondes.

"Right away sir!" She said, and as she turned around, she let out a large sigh. Once his food had been served, since business was slow once others saw he was in here, they all gathered around the security screen to watch him with bated breath. Bianca scoffed.

"He's done!" Katie shouted softly, "Go!"

"Did you enjoy your meal sir?" She asked, smiling.

_Would you like me to punch you in the face, sir?_ She added, silently.

He didn't respond, the whole staff was staring through the door from the kitchen, waiting for his response.

"Yes," he said, slowly. Bianca heard the sighs of relief from behind her, "although I particularly liked the waitress," he said with a wink. He got up, left the bill unpaid and the girls he was with practically floated behind him.

"He liked it!" Katie yelled.

"So we're not shutting down?" Eric asked.

"No!" Katie responded.

"What an ass. He didn't even pay," Bianca said, still staring at the table, filled with anger.

"A small sacrifice, Bianca," Madame DeFranc said, putting her hand on her shoulder.

As soon as Butch left, the crowds came pouring back in until closing. Madame DeFranc drove Bianca home as she did every day, even though Madame herself lived above the restaurant.

"Be 'appy, Bianca. Ve are still 'ere!" she said with a smile.

"Yeah, you're right. Thanks Madame!" She said, faking a smile and getting out of the car, heading inside the apartment complex.

"Hi James," she said, forcing a smile to the man in the lobby. He grunted in response, and she rolled her eyes.

_Typical James._ She thought. She made her way to the elevator to the sixteenth floor, walked to room 1698, opened the locks only to close them once she was in her apartment.

From the sixteenth floor, Townsville looked like it used to—beautiful, clean, crime free.

_A small sacrifice._ The words echoed in her head like a song she couldn't remember the lyrics to.

_"What?" Blossom asked, "But…how?" That was Blossom, always managing to say what Buttercup was thinking._

_"You're my girls," he said._

_"Professor? What's the matter?" Bubbles was tearing up again. You'd think at thirteen she'd stop crying so much. This time it looked like she had reason to._

_"A small sacrifice…"_

Bianca screamed in frustration, nearly punching _another_ hole in her wall.

_Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. _She thought to herself, looking up and blinking away the tears. She whipped open her cupboards and pulled out a small black box, inside it were fragments of a picture. Like she did every year, Bianca brought out the scotch tape and pieced it back together. The girls in the photograph had never looked happier, neither did the Professor, for that matter.

And, like every year, she ripped the photo back up and—not having the heart to throw it out—put it back in the little black box before chucking it back in the cupboards.

Saturdays were her favourite. Bianca didn't have to work over the weekend, but every Saturday at 1 PM she'd go to Chez to visit and have lunch anyway. She spent the day to herself mostly, until 4 when she would go to the gym. She packed her gym bag, throwing in the essentials and bounded out the door.

The elevator doors reached the lobby, and just as she was about to step out, her bag fell and she spent fifteen minutes putting everything back.

"Hi James," someone said, to which he responded with his usual grunt, and by the time Bianca was done, she didn't see who it was. Not like it mattered, this complex had over 1,000 residents. She waved to James as she bounded out, heading North instead of East because it was a shorter route.

Bianca loved Saturdays, but this Saturday was different. This Saturday she saw her again, and again Blossom acted as if she hadn't even seen her. Maybe she hadn't, maybe it wasn't even her.

"Bianca!" Madame shouted when Bianca walked in.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost," Marilyn, the weekend waitress, joked.

"Maybe I have…" Bianca muttered, "the usual, please,"

Grilled cheese and an ice tea. She ate, paid, and left, and walked to the gym, her happy mood returned after the meal. On the way over to the gym, she nearly got trampled by a bright flash of dark green light she assumed was a speeding car.

_If I had my powers still, bud, you'd be dead meat._ She grumbled.

The gym smelt of sweat, the music was loud and the atmosphere competitive. And that's why she loved it here. Bianca began her usual routine: treadmill, elliptical and then finally weights, finishing with a nice cold swim. She always wanted to start with weights, but that would have brought unwanted attention and most certainly blown her cover. She may not have her powers anymore, but she was still stronger than ever.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: And I am STILL not done people. More to come. Please review. Think of the children. <strong>


	6. Seven Years Too Long

~Bubbles~

"You slept in again!" Mrs. Frud's voice was Belle's personal alarm clock. Though she knew she had not slept in, though she knew she had at least an hour before she was supposed to wake up, Mrs. Frud never failed to whip open Belle's door and start screaming.

_One more day._ Belle thought, referring to her off days—Sunday and Monday.

"I'm sorry miss," She said politely, to which Mrs. Frud responded with a slam of Belle's door. Belle's room shook—it was that small. The walls were a soft white, and the ceiling slanted from the door all the way to Belle's window beside her bed. Her room was small but Belle loved it with all her heart—it was _hers._ Her desk, her bed, her shelves, her books…her stuffed animals, kept safe in a brown cardboard box underneath her bed. She changed into the uniform and cleaned the house again, secretly wondering if the night maid—Melinda—did any work, or if she just watched TV the whole time.

_Every day this house is a mess—I finish at nine and start at ten. Melinda starts at nine and finishes at nine! Where do they find the time?_ She thought to herself, with a small laugh. As her off days neared though, the house was always easier to clean, because there was someone to keep it that way. Tuesdays were horrific, and she wasn't done tidying up until Thursday, and it didn't help that her employers kept adding to the mess. Saturdays were always filled with a small amount of leisure, though. Not much to tidy and not much to clean. She was finished early. At six, she made dinner, and again she suffered through the most awkward moment of her day.

When it was just Mrs. Frud, the dinner was spent with simple complaints and insults towards Belle. She would have Mrs. Frud's insults any day over the dead silence of Mr and Mrs. Frud's dinner.

"Frank," Mrs. Frud said.

"Yes dear?"

"There was another power outage this morning," she said, with a tsk.

"I told you, dear, RRB Corp is testing out a new product," his tone was condescending.

"I was just wondering if-,"

"You're a little bit _too_ curious these days," he cut her short.

"Yes, well. It's seven o'clock, that means my show is on. If you'll excuse me,"

_No!_ Belle wanted to shot. _Stay!_ But she didn't, and Mrs. Frud left promptly. Belle went to go pick up her dishes as soon as she left, as she had learned to do over the years. When she came back after washing the dishes, to her dismay, Mr. Frud was still eating.

"Why don't you eat a little early, Belle? Come, sit with me," he said, not even looking up from his phone, absentmindedly putting food in his mouth at a snail's pace.

"That's hardly my place sir," She said, averting her eyes.

"Nonsense. Get your food and sit," he said, a bit more sternly. She did as he asked and sat to wear he was pointing. Her meal was significantly smaller than his, but it was enough to live by. She had finished before him, he was moving painstakingly slow.

"Excuse me," she muttered quietly.

"Stay. Until I finish," he said. She sat there quietly until he finished, which was at least after half an hour. He got up and left without a word, and she silently cleaned up. Before she knew it, it was nine PM, and Belle was more than tired. She smiled at Melinda and trudged into her room, too tired to open her computer.

_Tomorrow will be a better day._ She thought, happily.

She woke up, late, with a smile. Well—late for her. 10:30 was late enough, and any later would result in still being here when the Furds woke up, and today, like most Sundays, she did not want to see them. She put on black jeans, a white tee-shirt and a gray coat overtop, wishing that she could wear colour. She briefly looked at herself in the mirror, applying small amounts of mascara and lipgloss—not as if she had anyone to impress. She wasn't allowed to wear makeup as the maid, so naturally she had to put it on.

She skipped out the door and walked to town—which was about half an hour away. Belle was _hungry._ The first thing she wanted to do was eat in a restaurant—most of the ones she liked had been shut down already by RRB. She decided to take a risk and go into one that had somehow passed—something called _Chez._

_Or is it pronounced Chey? I can never remember!_

She walked in, her blonde hair swaying behind her and was overwhelmed by how beautiful it was inside. It was bright, warm, quiet…something she hadn't seen in a while.

"You 'ave died your 'air?" A french woman asked her, her face twisted in confusion, "in all my years you 'ave never so much as highlighted your 'air!" she said with a soft laugh.

"Sorry…what?" She asked, slightly confused.

"Apologies!" she responded, "You look just like one of my waitresses!" her face was going red, "Well, Ereek? Get 'er a table!" she said, pointing her spatula to a boy leaning on a podium.

"Oh! Right!" He was brought back to life and lead her to a table in front of a picture of the ocean, like she requested.

_He's cute._ Belle thought, with a smile. _I'll have to come here more often! _Her meal was wonderful, and she let herself pig out, leaving a hefty tip for her new favourite restaurant. The rest of the day was spent as it usually was—with Belle walking through the mall sighing longingly at all the beautiful colours. When night fell, though she wasn't tired, Belle knew it was time to go back home—she couldn't really call it a home, could she? She went to her computer as soon as she got into her room, spending her night looking at videos of cute animals until it was time to go to bed.

The next day she spent a longer time getting ready, wanting to impress Eric and hoping he would be working today. She put in small studded earrings, mascara and a pink lip gloss and walked to the restaurant, feeling happier than ever. When she reached the resturaunt, she walked in, flipped her hair and put on her winning smile, and nearly flew when it was returned. He brought her to her desired table, and she flicked through the menu, already knowing what she wanted. While she was waiting for her waitress to come, Belle began to think about Eric, and how kind he was and how maybe things were going to turn out ok for her. They'd get married, and be happy, and—

"Excuse me miss? Are you ready to order?"

"Huh?" She said, turning towards the waitress, "yes I'll have chicken breast and ceaser salad, water to dri-," she stopped dead in her sentence, her mouth still shaped with the word 'drink'.

"Buttercup," she whispered. Sure, her hair was longer and looked eerily similar to Belle's, but sister's don't ever stop recognizing each other.

"No," she said with a forced smile, pointing to her name tag, "Bianca. You must have me confused with someone else,"

Belle's mouth formed a small and sad 'o'. She had hoped beyond hope that this truly _was_ Buttercup. 7 years is too long to not so much as see your sister.

_I wonder where Blossom is…_She thought sadly. The time spent at the resturaunt was not as cheerful as she had hoped, and Belle left feeling truly disappointed. Not even walking around a deserted Townsville—as it usually was every Monday—could cheer her up.

When it was close to 9, Belle decided it was time to go back. She had to wake up early tomorrow, and could not afford to _actually_ sleep in. She walked her way back, and as she reached the alley that lead to the big houses, she began to feel very frightened. The alley was long and she felt as though she was being followed. She started to pick up the pace when before she knew it, an arm was wrapped around her neck.

"Hello girly," a voice heavy with alcohol said. Belle reached up her arms and started to claw at his arms, only causing him to tighten his grip. Eventually, she was losing the energy as well as her breath. He loosened his grip only enough so that she wouldn't die. His beard scratched her face, as she thought of all the terrible things that would happen to her.

"What are you doing in an alley after dark, girly? You must be askin' for it," he was dragging her the opposite way—she had been so close.

"Hey!" A voice called, causing the man to whip out a knife and put it against her back, "What are you doing?"

"Just helping her get home. Poor thing had a little too much," he said, adding quietly to her, "say anything and this knife goes straight into your back and the head of that boy," as he gestured with his head to the boy coming closer.

Had it been just her in danger, Belle would have screamed. But she would not risk the life of another.

"On a Sunday?" he asked.

"Bit of an alcoholic I'm afraid," he said, with a strong tsk, "aren't you deary?" he asked, as he squeezed his arm tighter. Belle wanted to respond, but she felt her knees go.

"Air," she managed as she slipped, the knife ripping her jacket.

"I knew it!" he shouted. In a flash, he was there, and he threw the man to the side. Her vision was blurred as he looked at her, his voice distorted, "run!" he said, and she obeyed, her run sloppy until she got home. 

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: It's pree long, only because I like writing from Bubbles P.O.V :3. She may be 23 but she's still just as cheerful! I have plenty more chapters to upload today, don't give up hope, they just take long to upload -.-. Review or...or...I'll be really sad :(<strong>


	7. I Miss You

~Blossom~

Beatrice bounced home; more than happy her headaches would finally be cured, completely forgetting about her encounter with Buttercup. It was short lived, as she was immediately reminded when she entered the lobby of her apartment complex.

"James…" she said slowly, pointing to the vase of flowers on his desk, "what are those?"

"Buttercups,"

"Oh. Lovely," she said, slowly walking towards her preferred route of travel—the stairs. She lived on the fifteenth floor, and the walk up was her way of staying fit—she could never imagine running in public or going to the gym, that was more of Buttercup's thing.

Beatrice was once again reminded of how much she missed her sisters. How much she missed giggling with Bubbles, or messing with Bubbles with Buttercup. The three girls had been together their whole lives. But if they were seen together now—even though it's been ten years, even though they don't look the same—they would be caught, and they would be killed. It wasn't the first time Beatrice wondered if her sisters resented her for coming up with this protection plan. Often times Beatrice resented herself for coming up with it. But three years in hiding was no way to live.

True, they were waiting for their powers to return as the Professor had said _might_ happen, but after three years of waiting, healing—they had to move on with their lives.

_"We just have to face it guys…we've met our match," Blossom said, shaking her head sadly._

She unlocked her door and her uplifted mood was suddenly deflated.

"I miss you guys," she whispered, to nobody in particular.

* * *

><p>~Buttercup~<p>

Bianca had just finished the elliptical and was _still_ waiting for the weights to free up.

_First of all, why is there only one bench?_ She thought angrily. She pushed her way through the crowd and as soon as she saw who it was, immediately regretted it. It was too late to push her way back, he already saw her.

"You're the waitress," he said, putting down the weight, "so _you're_ the chick I almost ran over,"

"That was _you_? Watch where you're driving next time," she hissed, knowing it could probably get her thrown in jail.

"Wasn't driving baby. I can _fly_."

"Well how very interesting," She rolled her eyes and turned around, pushing through all the green-with-envy females, even though she herself was green with envy. That he could fly. When Bianca could fly—when Bianca was a different person—it was all she would do. Yet even though she did it whenever she could, once it was gone, she still felt like she didn't use it enough.

...

Swimming felt like flying, that's why she loved it so much. She manuverd through the water better than anyone she'd ever known—back, forth, back, forth—she was going so fast and she just felt so _free._ When she couldn't take the chlorine anymore, she got out and wrapped her green bathing suit with a black towel, pulled off her goggles and shook her hair.

She knew he was watching her, but for how long she wasn't sure. He was wearing his bathing suit, and he was staring intently at the water.

"Go on in. Or are you just going to stare?" she said, as she walked past him. She knew why he wasn't going in—she knew this very well. When she left the gym, her phone began to buzz. She flipped it open and answered.

"Hey Bianca!" Marilyn's cheerful voice called.

"Hey Marilyn. What's up?"

That was the thing Bianca hated about Marilyn—and the sole reason Madame DeFranc never had them working together. Bianca kept to herself, but Marilyn would just chew your ear off. Bianca had just gotten home when Marilyn finally got to the point.

"So we're all going out for drinks tonight, did you want to come?"

"Sure why not," Bianca responded, deciding she had nothing better to do that night. She put on a pair of skinny jeans and a loose green tank top over top. Bianca was never one to dress up too much, nor was she one to drink alcohol. Today was a bad day all around, and she just wanted to have fun.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: Blossom and Buttercup's scenes were <em>really<em> short so I just put them together-sorry :$-longer ones coming up! No Bubbles in this circulation (but she'll be up before nightfall, don't worry...) only because she's on Monday (practically Tuesday) while everyone else is still on Saturday...review :D or don't. it's whatever. I don't care...that much...**


	8. So Close

~Blossom~

The weekend flew by, and suddenly it was Monday night, and Beatrice had opening number. She was feeling cheerful—she had tried Evein on Saturday with no luck. Today she was on Fidal, and it seemed to be working great. Her headache was gone, and she wasn't thinking about bad memories as she usually did.

Monday nights were her favourite-not too many people came on Monday nights, giving her the opportunity to try something new in front of a small crowd. Tuesdays for some reason were always busy.

"Hey Bea, I heard you did great in my place on Friday!" Abby said with a smile.

"It was really overwhelming," Beatrice said with a short laugh.

"Hopefully we'll switch places permanently! I'd really love to spend more time with Ben,"

"As long as you don't mind, I don't mind,"

"So you wouldn't mind taking my place again this Friday?"

"Sure," she said, smiling. The tune for the opening number played, and Aria, the lead singer began pumping out the first note, the cue for the girls to go on. It was an original song that played every opening night, introducing each of the girls' stage names.

"Sweet like sugar," Aria said—her stage name was Sugar.

"Ah, ah, ah," the girls mouthed—only three of the girls were powerful singers. They went through the names, until it was Beatrice's turn.

"Why don't you come and play with fire?" She mouthed, as a fire sound effect sounded through the speakers.

"Da dun da da," the girls echoed.

"Try and tame the tiger," the girl after Beatrice sang. But Beatrice almost froze in her spot as she saw him there—again. Looking as bored as ever.

_You're going crazy Beatrice. You _think_ it's him only because of Buttercup bringing back bad memories. Don't mess up._

"Bea are you okay?" Tara—the girl who's stage name was "Tiger" asked, looking into Beatrice's eyes, when the number was finished.

"I'm fine—I don't know what happened…Do you think anybody noticed?"

"Nah, don't worry about it," she said, smiling. The music started playing through and the girls who hadn't left to go home yet went on stage, and Beatrice was left with her thoughts.

Beatrice sighed as she realized she would once again be walking home. She walked out the back door after changing and wiping off her makeup and made her way around the front.

"Flame?" A tentative voice called around.

_Not another drunken idiot._

She turned around, and realized she would rather have a drunken idiot.

"Only my stage name, sweetheart," she said, condescendingly.

"Oh. What's your real name, then?" He asked, shrugging off the wall and walking towards her. He was wearing a black t-shirt this time, and Beatrice noticed that his hair was now more auburn than red and was a clean cut.

"Beatrice," she said shortly.

"Brick," he said.

"I know,"

"Oh. Right," there was something different about Brick—he wasn't as in-your-face as Beatrice used to know him. He seemed awkward, and shy.

"I should be on my way," she said, turning and walking as fast as she could.

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**Author's note: The &&& from now and forever more will mean POV change...but not just any ordinary POV change...MWAHAHAA. review, they help me grow :)**


	9. RRB

"Wait!" he said, but Beatrice was out of earshot, "I was going to offer you a ride…damn it Brick what's wrong with you?"

_Butch is right. It was his stupid idea to get me to go to the damn club every night until I finally got with a girl._

He kicked a stone across the street dejectedly. He didn't want to get with a girl—and to be honest he wasn't sure how Butch got girls in the first place.

_We're _evil_. Do girls like that or something?_

Brick hadn't so much as wanted a girl since he was thirteen—he only ever wanted one, though he'd never admit it to anyone and deny it to his grave. That ship was long gone, though.

_"Hey…are you okay?" Brick asked, keeping a safe distance from a weeping girl. _

I hate when she cries, it makes me feel all weird._ Brick thought at the time._

_"What do you care? Go away," He flew in front of her, still keeping the same distance._

_"I _don't_ care. I'm just bored, and we're not fighting right now and stuff so why not?"_

_"If you're so bored why don't you go steal something with your brothers so I can whoop your butt?" she asked, looking up. _

_"They're in detention,"_

_"And you're not?"_

_"I like science," he said with a shrug, "So why are you crying, dweeb?"_

_"I'm crying cause you suck so much!" She yelled, flying up to match his level. Brick tensed, but laughed when he realized she was just joking._

_"Race ya ta China!" he yelled._

_"You're on!"_

They were 11 then, in middle school. They never spoke of that day again, because when the race was done, detention was over and Blossom went home. She never told him why she was crying, and now he'll never know.

"Dude you need to go to therapy or something," Butch had said, not looking up from his video game.

"I don't need _therapy._" He said, annoyed.

"How did it go tonight?"

"Fine."

"Did you get a girl's number?"

"No," Butch laughed.

"Did you _talk_ to a girl?"

"Yes, I did, so ha!" This was enough for butch to pause the game.

"You're lying," he said, flying up and slamming Brick against the wall playfully.

"Am not," Brick responded, playfully pushing Butch away, causing him to slam through the wall.

"What the HELL?" Boomer shouted, coming out of his now destroyed room.

"Easy with the temper," Butch said, standing up.

"I do NOT have a bad temper!"

"What about this afternoon, when you nearly ripped the building from the ground because we didn't have _ice cream_?"

"Ok…that was a valid reason,"

"Or when you punched a hole in the floor of every floor under your room when you couldn't find your favourite t-shirt?"

"Ok maybe then that was too much-,"

"Or when you ripped the top off of Wendy's because the line was too long?"

"Ok maybe those were uncalled for but you just punched a hole through my _wall!_ Seriously?"

"Brick talked to a girl,"

"No shit?" Boomer asked.

"No shit." Butch responded.

"What's her name?"

"I was _getting_ to that," Brick said, angrily, "Beatrice," he said with a smile.

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**Author's Note: ZOMG THE ROWDY RUFF BOYS. I always feel like a dog when I say their name. Whatch'yu think? Review s'il te plait! (that's french for: or i'll kill you!...just kidding..it means please...)**


	10. Nightmare

~Buttercup~

Bianca was having a nightmare, like she did every time she drank too much alcohol.

_Buttercup groaned as she was struck to the ground for what would be her last time. She looked to her sisters, the both of them groaning. _

_"How are they so strong?" Bubbles asked, weakly. _

_"I don't know Bubbles," Blossom responded, her head bleeding. _

_Buttercup would not fall. She weakly got up only to fall back down again._

_"Loser!" Butch called, laughing, as he flew down and kicked her when she hit the ground again. _

_"But they're already dying," Boomer said, to nobody in particular. Immediately afterwards, the boys flew towards them and Buttercup felt herself black out for what she thought was forever._

~Blossom~

Beatrice came home, shaking with fear at almost being caught, and went to bed immediately.

_Blossom felt her heart harden almost literally after he left. _What makes us so worthy?_ She would think angrily as the years zoomed by, slowly healing, slowly getting used to being power free._

_Bubbles sighed, looking out the window through the blinds in the remains of what used to be their home._

_"I hate this!" Buttercup screamed. Blossom's heart twisted at seeing her sister's this way—locked inside as though they were crazy, only going out one by one for food and necessities. She had read all of the Professor's notebooks, trying to find out a way to leave._

_"Girls," she said, causing them both to come near her, "we have to leave,"_

_"Why? Did you get your powers back?" Bubbles asked, excitedly._

_"No,"_

_"Then we can't leave. Thanks for nothing Blossom," Buttercup said, turning._

_"We have to leave,"_

_"Yeah, I know, but we can't!" Buttercup screamed, "We'll be seen together and everyone will know we're back and then we'll die—and I've already died once it is not pleasant! There is nobody to save us this time!"_

_"That's why we have to say good-bye. We each have to go our own ways, take new identities. The only way we can be together is if we all have our powers back. One of us is not enough,"_

_"Good…bye?" Bubbles asked, her eyes tearing, "But we're sisters,"_

_"We can't be that anymore, Bubbles. We can't even be ourselves anymore,"_

_"That is the dumbest idea I've ever heard. If we're going to go out into the real world why don't we go together?"_

_"Haven't you heard the news? People who even look like us are being interrogated and thrown into prision,"_

_"So we can be together in the future?"_

_"They're always going to be afraid, Bubbles," Buttercup said, "Blossom is right,"_

Beatrice woke up gasping—her nightmares were always memories, with a twisted light to them. Even if the light or the dark tone wasn't there, her memories will always be nightmares.

~Bubbles~

Belle ran into her room, her heart beating faster than ever, and fell asleep promptly.

_Bubbles woke up screaming in pain._

_"Shh, shh Bubbles, it's okay, you're fine,"_

_"But we died!" Blossom shouted. Buttercup was eerily quiet._

_"I brought you back,"_

_"What?" Blossom asked, "But…how?" _

_"You're my girls," he said._

_"Professor? What's the matter?" Bubbles was tearing up again. _

_"A small sacrifice was needed to bring you three back," he said weakly._

_"What kind of sacrifice?" Buttercup demanded. _

_"Mine. Listen, girls, I brought you three back because I love you. I brought you three back because you're too young to die, and I brought you three back because I could. You can't play God without a small sacrifice though. You can't win it all. So I'll be gone soon. The important thing is that you three live on,"_

_"Don't worry professor, we'll defeat them for you,"_

_"No—that's not why I brought you back. You couldn't, even if you tried. I don't have Chemical X inside me, so you don't have your powers," Bubbles held his head where he lie on the ground of the laboratory._

_"Whaddya mean no powers?" Buttercup asked, wondering why she felt so…fragile._

_"It was the only way I could bring you back, girls. Perhaps with time they'll come back, but I'm not certain," he said, groaning._

_"We love you, Professor," they said in unison, as he breathed his final breath._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: THERE YA GO. Since you were wondering what the EFF was goin' on. Enjoy :[D (-it's a man with a mustache...review or he DIES! dun dun dunn)<strong>


	11. Second Too Long

"Bianca! Bonjour!" Madame said with a smile, "I saw your doppelganger yesterday," she said.

"My doppelganger?"

"She looked exactly like you, mais she 'ad blonde 'air,"

"Oh, weird," Bianca couldn't imagine that there was someone out there who looked exactly like her.

"Yeah she was pretty cute too," Eric said, as though it was an afterthought.

"You saying I'm cute?" Bianca said with a wink.

"Yeah except this girl was nice," That received him a punch to the gut.

"Watch it," she said with a laugh. The day was passing smoothly, and Bianca's nightmare was a thing of the past.

"Bianca! Eric's crush is here!" Katie said, bursting Bianca out of her daydream, "Wanna do the honours?"

"Why not, I'll go see how much she really looks like me," she said, whipping out her notepad and walking towards table five.

"Can I take your order?" She said to the girl whose head was turned away.

_Come on turn around! _

"Excuse me, miss? Can I take your order?"

"Huh? Oh yeah I'll have a chicken breast and ceaser salad and a water to dri-," she stopped halfway through her word, and Bianca knew why. She was doing her best not to react the same way. Bianca wanted to scream, she wanted to hug her, she hadn't seen her in so long—she was certain she had moved to a different town or country.

"Buttercup?" she whispered, and Bianca remembered her nightmare, and she remembered that they have to keep their distance.

"No," she said, forcing a smile, "Bianca,"

Bianca served the food and waited in the kitchen, staring at the screen until it showed her leaving. With a sigh of relief she walked back into the restaurant.

"Looks just like you, huh?"

"Uncanny," she said sarcastically.

When Madame DeFranc dropped her off, Bianca headed to her home sombrely, wishing she had responded to Bubbles in a different way. She hadn't seen Blossom since Saturday, and she had no idea where to find her or Bubbles for that matter. Maybe they did live somewhere else, and were only just visiting. But who would want to visit Townsville, the headquarters of RRB? Especially if you were on the Most Wanted list.

The only explanation that made sense to Bianca was that they lived and worked somewhere in Townsville.

_Would Blossom be mad if I started looking for her and Bubbles?_

"Who are you getting all dressed up for?" Boomer asked.

"Nobody," Butch lied.

"Good, because you're supposed to visit that restaurant again today. Mojo said you thought it was good. What's different about this one?"

"I dunno I just like it, ok?" Butch said, spraying himself with cologne.

"There's a hot chick working there, isn't there?" Boomer asked, suddenly behind Butch.

"What? No! Why would you even think that?"

"The amount of cologne you're wearing is enough to kill numerous small animals,"

"It is not!"

"Don't worry, I'm sure she'll love it,"

"You think so?"

"I knew it! Who is she?"

"I forgot her name,"

"Smooth move Butch. Then again, you've gotten away plenty of times for getting a girl's name wrong. I don't know how you do it," he said, turning back to his video game.

_Except she's different._ Butch wanted to say, but he knew he'd totally get punched for saying something so girly, even if it was the truth. When did he ever get _nervous_ around a girl? Who was he, Brick?

He sauntered in, not even noticing the pack of girls behind him, because he was only focused on the one leaning against the counter.

"Hello babe," he said, winking. The girls behind him swooned, all assuming the wink was meant for them. She didn't even look at him.

He suddenly felt stupid. The man lead him to a booth big enough for all the girls, and Butch slid in the middle, not bothering to look at the menu.

"Hello sir, glad to see you back again," The way that sentence was dripping with unenthusiasm allowed Butch to know who it was without even looking. _How did I not notice her? Oh man do I look good? I must look terrible._

"There are only three restaurants left open. It was a bit of eenie meenie minee moe," he said nonchalantly. _Butch you're an idiot._

"We must be blessed then, that you have graced us with your presence," she was saying the words with a happy tone, but the sarcasm dripping behind them chipped at his ego.

"So are you just going to stand there and stare at me or are you going to ask for my order?"

"I don't know, are you just going to sit there and wait half an hour to respond to everything I say, or are you going to order?" She asked, smiling and tipping her head to the side.

"I'll have a che-,"

"Cheeseburger, a salad for your favourite of the day and water for the rest?"

He swallowed and nodded quickly.

_She's different alright. No girl has ever been so mean.  
><em>&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Bianca turned around and cursed whoever seemed to be messing with her.

_He knew that time. He knew definitely. I was too nervous; he'll recognize me for sure. _

She brought him his cheeseburger as she asked, "Who gets the salad today?"

"How can you be so sure after meeting me once—okay twice technically—okay technically three times—that I give salads to my favourite?"

"It took you an hour to come up with that?" she said, placing the salad to the girl on his right, and water to every other girl. In all honesty, Bianca had no idea if that was what he did normally. All she knew was that any second longer talking to him was a second longer. Any second longer and he would find out who she was, and this banter between them would soon turn into a deadly battle—one she would lose in seconds. 

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: yes, it's short, but that means more to come immediately! Because if I decide 'that's enough for now' I'll end on a realllllyy long chapter, so you guys have something to chew on :). And special thanks to twilight rose for joining the comment party. Bet you're all jealous. Bet you wanna join in. Don't worry, we're not exclusive...yet. Join now :D!<strong>


	12. Far From Home For Far Too Long

~Bubbles~

"Be-," Mrs. Furd began, but Belle was already up, sitting quietly on her made bed in her made clothes, "It's six in the morning," Mrs. Furd said, her voice softer.

"That's what you were about to scream?" She asked, politely.

"Well…no…Are you alright?"

"Since when are you worried about my well being?" She asked again, politely. Mrs. Furd was taken aback.

"I'm not...I…I'll see you at ten," she said, quietly shutting the door behind her. It had been three days since her nightmare, three days since she was attacked, and three days since she was rescued. Mrs. Furd had found her like this every day for three days. Tuesday she burst in at 8 AM. Wednesday she burst in at 7 AM. Thursday she burst in at 6 AM. Each day, she would find Belle sitting awake, dressed and ready to go, eyes unblinking.

At nine AM, Francesca , the non live at home maid opened her door.

"Miss isseh-Bella?"

"Just Belle, Francesca ," she said, smiling to the old Italian woman at her door.

"It's eh-Thursday,"

"Yes,"

"Tomorrow Misster Furd has his eh-guests over, we must prepare the house-eh now,"

"I'm ready," she said, smiling, as she walked past Francesca in her doorway. The two worked vigorously to have the house shining, as difficult as that was while being yelled at by Mrs. Furd.

_Thankfully Mr. Furd is not home_. Belle thought, secretly.

The clock tolled nine o'clock, and the second Belle pulled her cloth away, she received the full extent of Mrs. Furd's fury.

"No! You'll work overtime!"

"But what about Melinda?"

"She's sick!"

That nearly set Belle off the edge.

_How many times have I been sick and you've made me work? You're making me work overtime and I'm not even getting pay this month! If I had _anywhere_ else to go, I would leave the first chance I had!_

It was midnight when they had finished, and the house was literally sparkling. She knew she would have to keep cleaning tomorrow, and with a pang of anxiety she realized Francesca would not be there to help. She only worked every other Thursday, because _she_ had a family to go home to.

She said goodbye to Francesca as she muttered, "Povera bambina, povera, povera bambina. Tu non si meritano questo," with a sad smile she tapped Belle's cheek, and Belle smiled brightly, not understanding a word Francesca said, though she said it every other week. Belle wearily made her way upstairs, excited to sleep only to remember she could not. She had tried to sleep after the incident, but each night she either saw memories or the man. No sleep was better than a realistic nightmare. So she stayed up, like she did every night since Monday night, one man's voice echoing through her head.

_Run._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Short, yes, yummy, yes...well I hope...it was certainly yummy while I was writing it! Then again I was listening to music and things always sound better when you're listening to music...so I hope it's yummy...OMG REVIEW OR THE MUSTACHE MAN GETS IT! I'M A CRAZY WOMAN! I'LL DO ANYTHING! D]: <strong>_'Don't kill me!'_


	13. Crazy

~Blossom~

Beatrice had been scheduled to work every night of the week, and every night the same Special Guest was sitting in the same couch, wearing the same look on his face. He hadn't tried to talk to her again, but maybe that was because she dodged him at every possible moment—she took the longer route home, she stayed late to help close up—he may be shy around Beatrice, but he was still Brick and Brick was still a dick, as far as she knew. She was leaving at one AM—five hours after she was allowed to leave on a Wednesday when she ran into him, literally.

"Oh, gosh, sorry," she said, averting her eyes.

"Don't worry about it," he said, still holding on to her forearms.

"Um, you can let me go now," she said, squirming under his iron grip.

"Right, sorry," She nodded, forming her lips in a thin line, feeling uncomfortable being so close to someone who wants her dead.

"Wait!" he shouted, and she froze in her footsteps, slowly pivoting.

"Yes?"

"Can I get your last name?"

Nobody has ever asked for her last name before. Not once.

"Sure…it's,"

_What sounds good with Beatrice? Um…Um…lamppost? No…sidewalk? Now you're just being stupid. Use an anagram! _

"Tricbea. Beatrice Trigbee," She said, deciding the second pronunciation sounded better.

"Trigbee?"

"Yeah. Got a problem with that?" She said, a little too defensive.

"No, no, just making sure I heard right,"

"Super." She said, turning around and clicking away, her heels the only sound in the quiet of the night. Everytime she talked to him—everytime she saw him she wanted to scream. She felt so weak, hiding from him, being afraid of him. If it weren't for the sacrifice made so that she could live, she would tell him flat out who she was.

_Who I am…_

…

"Aren't you excited Bea?" Aria asked, smiling big, "You're closing tonight!" She squealed.

"I closed last week too,"

"Yeah but this time we're staying to watch!" It was times like these Beatrice was glad she was working at XXX. Everyone was supportive, because everyone got a shot at the spotlight.

"No pressure," she said, her hands shaking from her current headache.

"Flame, five minutes!"

"Just about!" she responded. She reached into her bag and pulled out the three prescription bottles, frustrated at herself for not calling the doctor when none of them worked for longer than 3 hours.

"Three minutes!"

She poured the contents of the pills into her hand, taking roughly three of each, and downed them with water, sighing when she felt immediate relief. Her song played and the girls cheered her on as she smiled and moved onstage. This was a slower performance than her last closing number, which was strange since XXX started and ended Fridays with a bang, but Mark the choreographer wanted to highlight the fire concept, so she moved around stage with lyrical movements. The audience was in awe, staring at her with jaws gaping as she poured everything she had into the number.

Of course, the cat calls were still evident and money was still being thrown, but not as much, and not as loud. The music suddenly started to become distorted to Beatrice, but she did not stop dancing. The cat calls became slow and slurred, and everyone began to appear warped—all but one, of course—but Beatrice did not stop dancing. She would get her break in half an hour, between closing numbers. All she could hear was her heart beating, slow and steady, and she used that to keep herself in time. Her breath became heavy and everything blurred together.

Beatrice lost her footing and collapsed, hitting her head hard on the stage floor. The audience gasped, and the girls backstage screamed.

_"Blossom, stay with me, Blossom!"_

_"What…who are you?" She squinted her eyes, trying to see but all she saw was a dark blur against the horizon. _

_"Don't give up on your sisters, you can beat HIM. You just have to get up," She blinked and he was gone._

"Get up," a voice called.

"Who…?" Beatrice woke up to find herself in a hospital bed.

_Hospital? No, no, no, no! Get up, get out right now!_ She began to trash.

"Easy, you're in the hospital,"

"I know _that!_" She yelled, not bothering to see who was talking to her.

"Are you scared of doctors or something?"

She knew that voice.

"You!" She said, turning in her bed to point an angry figure at the man in the chair beside the wall, "Why are _you_ here?"

"Nobody knew if you had any family, so they were going to take it out of your pay check for the hospital bill. I offered to pay,"

"Oh. Thank you. That was very kind," she said stiffly, feeling awkward at owing something to her arch nemesis, "You didn't have to stay all night,"

"I thought you might have felt like a prostitute if you woke up with money on your chest,"

"Good point,"

"So where are all the other Trigbees?"

"Who? Oh! Right…um…Canada…"

"It's nice up there. Kind of cold though,"

"Yeah, they don't really write much," she said, shrugging, feeling uncomfortable at having to lie.

"I can leave if you want me to-,"

"Yeah, that'd be appreciated. Thanks for paying and all,"

"Oh. Ok, I hope you get better," he said, with a soft smile that _almost_ made Beatrice feel bad for being mean to him.

She sat in her bed in silence, wondering how she could get out, or if they had taken her blood already. A soft knock on the door made her sigh irritatedly.

"Did you forget something?"

Instead, he came in and shut the door behind him, locking it and pulling the blind against the window in it, and she realized it wasn't Brick.

"Blossom," It was Buttercup.

"Who are you?"

"Did you know you're on the front page?" She said, pulling a newspaper out of her purse and placing it in front of Blossom.

Burlesque Dancer Collapses—Rushed to city hospital.

The headline read.

"I still don't know who you are…"

"Blossom, enough is enough. It's been seven years,"

"Are you _crazy_ Buttercup? We can't—I mean—," Before she could stop herself, she started crying, and Buttercup sat beside her, hugging her. The two sat like that for a long time, unspoken words of love, joy and reconciliation transferred between them. Beatrice-Blossom-was the first to break the silence.

"Does this mean you know where Bubbles is?"

"No, I don't. But I saw her on Monday,"

"You look so different," she whispered.

"Seven years can really change a girl, I guess," she said with a smile, "you do too," she added, "and by the way, since when are you a dancer at a burlesque?"

"Since when is that front page material?"

"They're covering something up, Bloss, I can feel it,"

"We can't do anything without Bubbles, not until we find her. Where do you live? I need you to break me out of here,"

"1105 Apartment Complex,"

"You're kidding me,"

"What? It's actually really nice-," Buttercup said, shrugging.

"I live there,"

"For how long?" Buttercup asked.

"Seven years," they said in unison.

"Do you think maybe Bubbles lives there too? Maybe we were drawn to the same complex!"

"My boss found it for me…sorry to burst your bubble,"

"Speaking of bubble, let's go! The faster we find Bubbles the faster we can figure out a way to infiltrate RRB Corp!"

"Boy do I have a story to tell you about a certain RRB…"

"Bet it doesn't beat mine…"

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><p><strong>Author's Note : You know what's weird? I always put in breaks between scenes and '&amp;&amp;&amp;' between POV changes but it never transfers when I make it a copy. I really hope the half reunited scene was as good as expected :D! And they won't meet Bubbles for a while...I have something greater in store for her...Read and review! Tell me what'chya like, what'chya don't like! Please...I love them...<strong>


	14. New Job

**Author's Note: Yes, this is a long one, which means that this is the final upload of my creativeity high-still on it, but it's now almost one thirty in the morning and I am le tired. So I hope you enjoy! Read and review, your reviews help me continue writing :D!**

* * *

><p>~Bubbles~<p>

Friday came, and the build up to the evening was as hectic as ever, the fact that Belle hadn't slept in nearly a week wasn't helping the situation. It was four PM when she ran into him.

"Ah, Belle," He said, smiling too widely, "Follow me please,"

"I really should get back to-,"

"I said _follow me_," Mr. Furn repeated sternly. She followed him down the hallway, knowing he was leading her to the guestroom only higher authorities were allowed to have—otherwise you were suspected to be hiding a certain trio of superheroes.

"What is it you wanted, sir?"

"Do you want to get fired Belle?"

"Of course not, sir!"

"I didn't think you did," he said, shaking his head slightly, "then I'm sorry it has to come to this,"

"What? What do you mean, sir?"

"Have you seen how sloppy you've been lately?" Belle was taken aback—her hair had remained in place, her uniform was perfectly pressed.

"I don't understand what you're talking about, sir,"

"No, you wouldn't, you're far too simple,"

"I think you underestimate my intelligence, sir. I am smarter than I look," she said, clenching her fists and looking him straight in the eyes.

"If you're smart, then you'll take off your clothes," he said, eyeing her.

"What?" She hissed.

"I thought you didn't want to get fired, Belle," he advanced towards her as she backed into the wall.

"I don't," she said, squirming, turning her head just in time so that he kissed the wall instead of her face.

"Then why are you disobeying orders?" He said, angrily grabbing her by the shoulders.

"Because they are unreasonable," she said, gritting her teeth as she stomped on his foot, causing him to let her go and shout profanities at her. She ran out and quickly shut the door behind her, letting out a sigh of relief, before rushing back to the kitchen, as Mrs. Furd had told her to remain from five PM until the guests leave. Her worst enemies would be gathering and she would have to serve them. To say she was worried was an understatement.

They poured in, the first being Mojo Jojo, who didn't even so much as glance twice. 3 other people in suits she hadn't seen before sat down next, and finally the boys walked in. They all had relatively the same body shape—Butch slightly more muscular than his brothers. All three were the same height, and though it was obvious they were muscular, they were not a stocky build. Brick and Butch walked by without a second glance, allowing her to slightly let her posture relax that is until Boomer walked in. He walked right past her, his full head turned towards her, his eyes wide as though he had just seen a ghost. She smiled and he shook his head, not returning the smile and walking to his seat. She helped the cook set the table and returned to her position in the corner, moving only when glasses were running low in drinks, and when asked for more food.

She was not to make eye-contact with anyone, not that it was hard. The looks Mr. Furd was sending her could send anyone to their grave. He was so angry with her, and he kept calling Belle over for refills. She tried her best to tune out the conversation, and focus simply on being the epitome of perfection. The dinner began to wind down around nine PM, and Mr. Furd had called for another wine refill—his eleventh one.

"Don't you think that's quite enough?" Mrs. Furd asked.

"No," he responded, as Belle made her way over with the wine bottle.

"You have had quite a lot this night tonight, if you are not careful you might get the alcohol poisoning and then it will be you who has been poisoned by alcohol because you have had quite a lot!" Mojo said, laughing loudly, meaning that everyone else had to laugh too. She started to pour the wine when Mr. Furd tugged on her arm sleeve under the table, hidden from the eyes of others, causing Belle to drop the wine bottle and spill wine everywhere.

"Idiot girl!" He yelled, slapping her, "You're fired! Pack your things and leave _immedieatly!_"

Belle stood in shock—this was his revenge for her rejection. He knew he couldn't just fire her without reason. She nodded and ran upstairs, packing everything into the same brown box her toys resided in. There wasn't much to pack—she didn't own much. She put her photo in her laptop, placing the laptop in between clothes, and putting the books on top before closing the flaps. It took her less than twenty minutes to pack up what has been her life for seven years. She came downstairs and walked past the kitchen—in jeans and a black sweater—her coat no longer useable, the whole party was staring at her, Mr and Mrs Furd with fury. Her life had changed in what felt like seconds—and as she walked outside into the cold November weather, she let the tears fall openly as she walked around aimlessly, heading into Townsville but deciding to go the long way, not wanting to risk the alley.

_Things couldn't get any worse right now._ She thought. As if on cue, the rain began to pour. _I wish I was with my sisters._

"Hey!" A voice called, and she turned around solemnly to see a figure in the rain she didn't recognize, but it was someone she knew because the figure started running towards her, "I was at the dinner!" he shouted over the rain. She didn't respond; she just stared at him, her face blank with sadness. She knew who he was, but she felt so lost she didn't care who it was, "That was uncalled for!" he said, sticking his hands in his pockets and shaking his hair out of his face.

"My fault," she said, just loud enough to hear only slightly over the rain.

"Don't be ridiculous!" He said, brushing away a tear that just slid from her eye. How he could tell the difference between rain and tear was beyond Belle.

Belle responded with a shrug, not having the energy to hate the person in front of her.

"You're that girl!" he said, and for a second Belle thought he had recognized her in the pouring rain, "The one from the alley!" he shouted.

_He's the one who saved me. Ironic that he's also the one who killed me…_

"Well, if that's all you're going to say I should be going! I'm kind of homeless and all!"

"We need a maid! I'm here to offer you a job!"

Her brain screamed no, but her freezing body begged yes.

"When can I start?"

"How about now?" he asked, and she shrugged a yes, "Are you afraid of heights?"

"No why—," Belle began to scream as he picked her up and brought her past the rain clouds. The feeling of flying again thrilled Belle. The wind in her hair, the glowing thunderclouds below, the cold chill as the rushed through.

"Bet you are now," he whispered.

"You'd be surprised," she responded. He picked up speed and in seconds they were at RRB Corp, and he came to a careful stop in front of the fourth floor from the top.

"Normally I'd just burst through. But you might get cut pretty bad, so I'll just open it," he said, nonchalantly. He opened the window and put her inside, coming in shortly after. Belle nearly fainted at the sight. Discareded pizza boxes, pop cans, clothes, plates, crusted food, a broken wall and the place _stunk._

"You guys really do need a maid," she responded cheerfully.

"Yeah…I guess we do…" he said, picking up a can from the ground and drinking from it, causing Belle to cringe.

_How, after seven years of doing everything to avoid them, did I become their maid? I have to find Buttercup and Blossom before I get myself killed._

"What are my off days?" She asked.

"Whenever you want," he said, without even thinking about it.

"What?"

"Yeah…they're _your_ off days—you get to pick when you don't want to work. As long as you keep this place clean, you can do whatever you want, and wear whatever…we don't really care," he said with a shrug.

"Where do I stay?"

"That room down the hall, next to the bathroom," he said, pointing to a lone door at the end of a hallway, "The one with the whole in the wall is my room, the one next to it is Brick's and Butch has that room next to the kitchen, across from his is the closet with the towels and the closet with the coats, and _that's yours,_ adjacent to the bathroom,_"_

Belle hugged her box to her chest, said her thanks and walked towards the room. Opening it, she accepted either a giant mess or a similar room to the one at the Furd residence; she was in for a surprise. Across the door was a large bay window with a sitting nook, a double bed in front of it. To her right a golden maple desk, with shelves above it, and to her left a beanbag in front of a flat screen TV. She did her best not to squeal with joy, as she remembered she was now residing in the home of her sworn enemies. The curtains were golden beige, matching the comforter on the bed. Next to the door on the left stood her very own closet—it wasn't large, but it wasn't small either. She put her clothes carefully away, ignoring how bare it looked.

_Just enough space for more colour!_ She thought happily, as she changed into her pyjamas, forgetting about her recent insomnia and shutting her eyes to go to sleep.

"Wow. Did you guys see the way he treated that poor girl?"

"We know, Boomer, what an ass. That's the fifth time you've said it," Brick said, irritated.

"I wonder if she even has anywhere to go…everything she owned in that little box? She's probably homeless now!"

"We know, Boomer, the poor thing," Butch said, his voice monotone from repeating it so often.

"Stop the car! I'm getting out. I'm going to go find her. We need a maid anyways!" He said triumphantly as the car came to a jolt and with a blue flash he was gone.

"He does this all the time. He finds some weird person to be our maid and then he scares the crap out of her," Brick said, irritated.

"Whatever, his freak-out is always hilarious,"

"What about that time that one girl folded his socks wrong so he burned all of ours? He ruined my lucky socks," Brick said sadly.

"The one time he ever did any good. Those polka-dotted socks were possibly the most hideous things I've ever seen,"

…

He was flying all over Townsville, looking for her, when he nearly flew past her.

"Hey!" He shouted, waiting until she turned around. Once she did, he ran towards her, his hair wet and sticking to his face "That was uncalled for!" he said, referring to the way she was treated by her former employees, while sticking his hands in his pockets and shaking his hair out of his face.

"My fault," he heard, only so slightly as he watched a tear fall from her eye. Her big blue, sad eyes. Tears were hard to miss.

"Don't be ridiculous!" He said, brushing away a tear that just slid from her eye.

She responded with a shrug, obviously feeling deafeated, and her face looked tired as Boomer suddenly remembered where he'd seen her before.

"You're that girl! The one from the alley!" he shouted. He was wondering if she had heard him, and was about to repeat himself when he noticed her lips moving.

"Well, if that's all you're going to say I should be going! I'm kind of homeless and all!" She said, her voice clear over the rain.

_Go ahead Boomer, say why you're here!_

"We need a maid! I'm here to offer you a job!"

He waited, the rain gently pricking his skin, for her response.

"When can I start?" He couldn't stop the grin from forming on his face.

"How about now?" he asked, and she shrugged a yes, "Are you afraid of heights?" He asked, wanting to impress her right off the bat.

"No why—," She began to scream as he picked her up and brought her past the rain clouds. The feeling of flying always felt great for Boomer, but it just felt right with her there with him.

"Bet you are now," he whispered.

"You'd be surprised," she responded, to which he was slightly confused. He picked up speed and in seconds they were at RRB Corp, and he came to a careful stop in front of the fourth floor from the top.

"Normally I'd just burst through. But you might get cut pretty bad, so I'll just open it," he stated, opening the window and placing her inside, following shortly after.

"You guys really do need a maid," she responded cheerfully, and suddenly he felt embarrassed.

"Yeah…I guess we do…" he said, picking up a can from the ground and drinking from it, attempting to make the place look cleaner.

"What are my off days?" She asked.

_Off days?_

"Whenever you want," he said, hardly thinking about it.

"What?"

"Yeah…they're _your_ off days—you get to pick when you don't want to work. As long as you keep this place clean, you can do whatever you want, and wear whatever…we don't really care," he said with a shrug, not looking at her. Too much interest can creep a girl out. Besides, she had no idea what she was like other than she was pretty and a good maid.

"Where do I stay?" She asked, and he nearly smirked at the excitement in her voice.

"That room down the hall, next to the bathroom," he said, pointing to a lone door at the end of a hallway, "The one with the whole in the wall is my room, the one next to it is Brick's and Butch has that room next to the kitchen, across from his is the closet with the towels and the closet with the coats, and _that's yours,_ adjacent to the bathroom,_" _he mentally slapped himself for repeating things like an idiot.

_I must be getting that from Mojo._

She bounced down the hall after muttering her gratitude, and once the door shut, Brick and Butch came out of their rooms.

"You _actually_ brought her here?" Butch asked, belching.

"Have you seen what it looks like in here?"

"It's not as if she's the first maid, Boomer," Brick said, to which Boomer smiled sheepishly.

"So what's her name?" Butch asked.

"Crap." Boomer said, causing his brothers to laugh.

"Classic Boomer! Gave her a home and doesn't even know her name!"


	15. Laughter Is The Best Medicine

**Author's Note: Guys, please review, I know more of you are reading then those of you reviewing D: ... but that doesn't mean I'm not grateful for the reviewers..you guys are awesome :D! Also, I'm going to be updating a little slow (still more in one day, but not as fast) because today I have plenty of errands to do...sorry :'(! Enjoy this lil (understatement, its pree long imo) Blossom chapter :)  
><strong>

* * *

><p>~Blossom~<p>

"I can't believe, this whole time you've lived one floor above me," Beatrice said when she was led to her sister's apartment.

"Weird, right? So Blo—,"

"I think you should refer to me as Beatrice…that's my alias,"

"Oh, ok," she said, sounding slightly deflated, "mine is Bianca," Beatrice nodded in a businesslike way, walking through Bianca's apartment, which had the same layout as hers.

"Great place you've got here," she said with a giggle, "looks just like mine,"

Bianca scratched the back of her head, feeling awkward, though Beatrice couldn't place why.

"Do you want something to drink or…?"

"Water would be nice, I _did_ just come out of the hospital,"

"Oh yeah, yeah that," She said, as she went to go get Beatrice a glass of water.

While Bianca went into the kitchen, Beatrice continued to walk through her living-room absentmindedly, looking at Bianca's few photos with sad eyes. It was Bianca growing up, something she didn't get to see—pictures of Bianca at the opening of a restaurant, blowing out candles for her seventeenth birthday, even though the girls didn't really have a 'birth'.

Pictures of Bianca laughing, looking angry while others laughed—all of them fuelled Beatrice's rage—at herself, but more importantly at the RRB.

"So you think you know where Bub—I mean _she_ is?" Beatrice asked, when Bianca came back into the room, without even looking at her.

"No, but she comes to the restaurant I worked at, apparently,"

"You've seen her?" Beatrice asked.

"Yeah,"

"How is she?" she asked, finally turning around to take the glass of water.

"I dunno, she _looked_ perfectly fine, but you know how Bubb—_she_ is,"

"Well did you notice anything suspicious?" She asked, once again taking the leader position.

"She was wearing black and white—I mean, maybe she grew out of wearing blue or any colour or maybe she was just wearing it for that day, but, I dunno," she said, shrugging.

Beatrice nodded, but she was agreeing with something else—the _awkwardness_ between them. It was hard after being separated seven years, not so much as a 'hello' between them, to jump right back into conversation. So much had changed, Buttercup—Bianca—was not the same girl Beatrice had said her final goodbye to at sixteen.

"That's a good observation, it might be very important,"

"So, B, how's life?"

"Huh?"

"Come on _Beatrice._ I haven't seen you in seven years and all you've told me so far is how Brick paid for your hospital bill because he likes you,"

"Yeah well what have you told me?" she asked, getting defensive, "_Oh my gawwd, Butch is _such_ a perv now, blah, blah, blah,_" she said, mocking her sister in a voice that was neither Beatrice's nor Bianca's.

There was a silence between them, and Beatrice wondered if she had gone too far, until Bianca started laughing—really _hard._

"Oh yeah?" she said, still laughing, "_Look at me I'm Beatrice, and I'm a dancer at a _Burlesque_ ou look at Brick he's so creepy but I love the attention teehee,"_ Bianca said, moving around her apartment with terrible dance moves, making Beatrice laugh and feel light.

The two girls joked around, spending the rest of the day ordering in and filling the other in on their life, slowly growing closer to each other with each new thing that was said.

"So how come you grew your hair out? Was it just for a disguise, or…?" Beatrice asked, taking another slice of pizza.

"I dunno, I guess I was sick of the bob cut—why did you cut your hair?"

"Disguise," she said sadly, missing her long hair.

"Did you end up going to university?"

"Yeah, online, I just graduated actually last month or so,"

"Oh…I missed it?" She asked, sadly.

"Eh it's no big deal really; you just print your certificate,"

"Oh. But you didn't even graduate high school…heck you didn't even go,"

"No! I was a freshman for a couple of months…that was nice!"

"I'm sorry you didn't get to finish high school, or go to a real university, like you wanted to,"

"Hey, I'll live. Heck, I'm living right now aren't I?" Beatrice smiled, trying to cheer up her sister, even though the fact that she didn't go through high school—and now she never can—or university, really upset her.

"Yeah…ok enough chit-chat! Before we can come up with a plan, we need to find B—_her_,"

"And then maybe do some rescuing," Beatrice added. Bianca nodded in agreement.

"Do you want to spend the night?" She asked, and Beatrice desperately wanted to say yes, but it was just too risky.

"I can't, sorry," she said, standing up, "I'll visit you tomorrow—here why don't you call me and I'll come over and we can hang out or something?"

"Oh, yeah sure," Bianca said, standing up with the pizza box in her hand as Beatrice wrote her number down on the box.

Beatrice said goodbye to her sister and headed down the stairs to her floor, checking her phone.

_Mark_

**_B, are you okay? Gary told me wut happened. Can u come in 2nite? It's our 15th anniversary! If not, ok. Hope to c u there! _**

_Abby_

**_OMG BEATRICE! ARE YOU OKAY? I TRIED CALLING BUT U DIDN'T PICK UP! CALL ME ASAP!_**

_Aria_

**_R u coming in 2nite? Mark wants 2 no. _**

_Tara_

**_R u coming 2nitee? U R supposed to b closing sat 2 reeeemember? Mark says he can teach u da routine in between openin and closin if you come now! We need u! Plz come—only if ur out of hospital tho, obvi.._**

Beatrice smiled to herself as she dialled Abby's number.

"Hello?" the voice on the other line said, her voice barely understandable over the music.

"Abby it's Beatrice,"

"Oh my God! Are you ok? Are you coming tonight? What happened?" Beatrice smiled at her friend's worried voice, as she began to tell her friend everything that happened—omitting Brick and her sister.

"That's terrible! But are you coming tonight? Everyone really wants you to close, you were so good at it…before you fainted obviously…"

"Um yeah, I'll come in. How long until opening?"

"About half an hour,"

"I'm on my way," Beatrice said. She was excited to go back to work, feeling elated at having found her sister—and actually talked to her. She made her way back down the stairs and had to do everything to stop herself from _running_ to XXX.

She completely forgot about Brick, because all she could think about on her way there was telling her sister (she could do that now!) she was a valued dancer.

She walked in through the back door, greeted by squealing girls and _'Are you ok?'_s. She smiled and told them everything's okay now, while silently adding _because we're almost a family again._ She changed into her costume and smiled big as they went on stage, going through the familiar opening tune, nothing but her, the girls and the music.

"Wow Beatrice! That was amazing—I mean, you're a great dancer anyway, but…_wow._ What got in to you?" Abby asked, when they came off stage.

"I don't really know," she lied, with a big smile. As the other girls went on for the next number, Beatrice stayed behind with Mark, learning the moves for the closing numbers, which was back to the usual 'loud and proud' endings she was used to.

She had perfected the final 3 numbers by the time it was her turn to go on.

"Alright, Flame, go get 'em," he said, handing her over to Gary the stagehand.

"Will do!" she said, as she strutted on stage, the music playing loud. She went through the number with the utmost perfection, people cheering and throwing money, clapping louder than ever when she went off stage to change.

"I never understand," she said, out of breath, "why they throw money, when it's not necessary,"

"Boys are stupid, honey," Gary said, not looking at her while she changed, "alright, go!"

The next to numbers were full with just as much pizzazz and fanfare as the first, literally ending with a bang—of confetti.

"Excellent job, Beatrice! We definitely need you on stage more often," Gary said, as soon as she got off stage.

"Thanks, Gary! Sorry for the scare yesterday…"

"I'm just glad you're okay sweetheart," he said with a smile.

She got changed and said good-bye to everyone, feeling tired but better than ever. She rejected the offers of rides, wanting to simply walk home in the cold November air, to cool herself down.


	16. Water

~Buttercup~

Beatrice left and Bianca felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness—she hadn't realized how lonely she'd been without her sisters, she'd mostly just tried to pretend 'Buttercup' was just her imaginary friend. But with Blossom, or rather Beatrice, it was hard to pretend she was someone else and it was hard to wait for someone else to save the day.

They would have to destroy the RRB with brains, rather than brawn—because a fight would result in their death, no doubt. She wasn't sure how they'd do it—but Beatrice was right, one problem at a time and right now their biggest problem was finding Bubbles.

It was too late to go to the gym, so Bianca did the lazier thing and sat in front of her television, watching whatever was on, deciding that tomorrow she would work out instead of the usual.

**"I just don't know what to do, Emma," **the man on the television said, to a girl with blonde hair and green eyes. Cue rainfall.

**"Say you won't go. Just say you _won't_ go,"**the woman responded, crying.

**"We're like night and day Emma. They're right, we don't belong together,"**

**"I gave up _everything_ for you,"**

_Blech. _

…

She woke up early, hoping to get to the gym before it was packed; she wasn't in a mood to show off. She got through her usual routine of treadmill, elliptical, weights, and swimming pool and her visit to the gym was relatively uninterrupted. Until she came out of the pool, of course.

"Hey,"

"Are you stalking me or something?" she said with a laugh, something he obviously didn't find funny.

"Um,"

"What?" She put her hand on her hip, feeling self-conscious in her bathing suit.

"You're a pretty good swimmer,"

"Thanks, I hadn't noticed," she said sarcastically, wishing he would leave.

"Can you teach me?"

She couldn't help the laughter that followed.

"Teach _you_ how to _swim_? You don't know?"

"I don't really need to know how to swim, so I just never learned," he said, his face turning slightly red.

"Sorry to say you're all dressed up with nowhere to go then, because I don't see why I should teach you how to swim, and I'm just about done here,"

"I'll pay you,"

"Not interested,"

"Please?" he whispered.

"How much?"

"How much do you want?"

"A grand per lesson," she said, examining her nails.

"A _grand?_ No way,"

"Alright, you can go find yourself another teacher then. You know, one who won't sell you out to a gossip magazine,"

Butch waited a few minutes before responding with a defeated yes.

"Thought so," she said, with a sing-songy tone to her voice.

"I want my first lesson _today,_" he said, causing her to freeze up slightly.

"Ok I want my pay upfront then,"

"I'll give it to you after the lesson,"

"Alright well, let's get in then," she said, seeing as how he was already in his bathing suit. She didn't want to accept his offer—knowing him he was probably lying and was going to act all pervy with her, but she could use the money.

"Wait let me get some things," he said, turning and walking back to the boy's locker room. Once he was out of earshot, she let out a sigh of relief and mentally prepped herself for spending an hour alone with him.

"Ok I'm ready," he said, and nothing could have prepared her for what she saw. He was wearing water wings—two pairs of them—and holding a floaty.

She started snickering.

"We're starting in the shallow end, you know that right?"

"Better to be safe than sorry!" he said, defensively.

"Right…okay, you walk over to the shallow end, _take the stairs,_" She added as she dived in from the deep end, swimming all the way over to where she told him to go. When she arrived, she noticed he still wasn't in the pool, "anytime," she said.

"I'll come in!"

"Eventually? Come on it won't bite,"

"You don't know that," he said.

"Don't tell me," she said, rising and getting out of the water, "you're afraid of water,"

"Maybe just a little,"

"Oh, God. You don't need a teacher, you need a _therapist,_" she said, annoyed, as she walked out and past him.

"But—,"

"Forget it," she said, leaving.

_Why is he afraid of water?_ She thought, her curiosity getting the better of her. _Who cares._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Yes, its short, but only because...I didn't really know where to take Buttercup in this installment...as usual review and if you have any ideas or things you're wondering, or theories put them in the review (not saying I'm going to use them, but that kind of stuff is always fun :D)<strong>


	17. Cleaning

~Bubbles~

When Belle woke up, she was pleased to see the apartment deserted—but it looked messier than ever before.

_It's not even been a day. How do they manage?_

She got to work immediately, deciding to start first with the garbage that seemed to be most condensed in the living room. After nine full garbage bags, the place was already starting to look cleaner…sort of. Next she dealt with the dishes, humming to herself while scraping them clean, and washing them to a sparkle.

By the time it was seven o'clock, she was nearly done the dishes. She picked up tonsils and started to sort the clothes for laundry.

When the boys returned around ten, they found their clothes were neatly folded on the kitchen table.

"We had hardwood flooring?" Brick remarked.

She giggled, "Please don't mess it up _too_ bad by tomorrow,"

"She's good,"

"It's only the living room and the kitchen. I still have the bathroom and your rooms to do," she said, blushing at the compliment.

"Still…_wow,_" Butch said.

"Go on, Boomer," Brick said, elbowing his brother.

"I was getting to it,"

Her smile faded as she looked from Butch to Brick to Boomer, wondering what they were talking about.

"I don't have your name,"

"Oh," she said, with a relieved giggle, "It's Belle," she said, flashing a toothy smile, "And boy am I tired!"

"Well, thanks, Belle," Boomer said, returning a closed lip smile. She turned and walked down the hall to her room, shutting it behind her and slipping into her pyjamas, carefully climbing under the sheets and closing her eyes into sweet sleep.

…

When she woke up that morning, to her dismay the living room and kitchen were messed up again—thankfully not as bad. She finished within the hour and worked her way through the rooms, which were significantly messier and smelled significantly worse. By the time the boys returned, she had only cleaned Butch's room.

"Suckers!" he said with a laugh. Brick shrugged and sat in front of the TV. Boomer, however, was slightly angry.

"Thanks," he said, venom dripping in his voice, as he stalked to his room, slamming it loudly enough to make Belle jump.

"Don't mind him, he has a temper problem,"

"Oh," Belle said, still feeling slightly frightened. She wanted to shower, but she knew the washroom was war territory, and she wouldn't be able to clean it tomorrow like she had wanted knowing that now she would have to clean up Boomer's room first thing.

…

She woke up, her eyelids heavy—she had never worked this hard. She got dressed and walked slowly over to Boomer's room, knocking to make sure he wasn't in there. When no response was heard, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, not sure what she would see inside.

To her surprise, Boomer's room was relatively clean. Besides the fact that his bed was unmade, and a few magazines and clothes were scattered, it was _nothing_ compared to the disgusting mess of Butch's room or the living room. She picked up the magazines, switched his linens and brought the clothes and linens out into the living room where she normally sorted the clothes for laundry. Deciding she might as well, she opened the door to Brick's room.

Once again she was met with shock, as Brick's room was perfectly neat.

_He is Blossom's counterpart._ She said, shrugging. She smiled at the thought that the boys' rooms matched their respective colours—Butch's room was practically tinted green, Boomer blue and Brick red.

She pulled on her yellow gloves, and a gas mask she had found in the kitchen as she made her way to the bathroom expecting the worst. She was right. She was suddenly glad for the gas mask because she was certain it smelled rank in there.

She had finished late at night, and the boys still weren't back and she wasn't in the mood to wait for them any longer. She went to bed, deciding that tomorrow—rather tonight—she would take her off day.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: It's shorter than short and I'm sorry D: ! I'm not getting writer's block, don't worry. Just I know where I want to take them but I'm not sure the proper route to getting there, and I know I always get p'od when writers start out promising (on fanfic) but they speed up the plot line too fast and you're sitting there feeling robbed. There's also ones that take too slow and you're sitting there going <em>COME ON ALREADY, <em>so I hope I'm not becoming either. Please let me know if you guys think I'm going too fast :3**


	18. Butch

**Butch**

Butch groaned loudly as they came back from another session.

"That was intense," he said, moving his neck from side to side making a loud _craaaack_.

"Dude. That's gross," Boomer said, looking at his brother with a creeped out face as he went to the fridge to get a beer.

"Grab me one too!" Brick shouted, the beer flew at him immediately, "easy, that was close,"

"Maybe next time you won't be so loud when someone is sleeping," Boomer grumbled.

"Who?"

"The chick, idiot,"

"Oh, sorry," he said, whispering as he opened the beer, sitting down on the couch with Butch following.

"I don't want to go into work tomorrow," Brick said.

"Me either," Butch chimed in, causing his brother to cast him an annoyed look.

"The two of you don't even have to work,"

"Yes I do!" Butch said, "I have the same job as you," he whispered, after receiving a glare from Boomer.

"Please. I do all the talking, and I'm the one that has to sit all day beside Mojo, and listen to him talk in circles while I try and find the point," He rubbed his head, "we must have the world, so that we can control it so the world and can be ours to control and when it is ours to control we will have the world and we will control it," he said, doing his best imitation of their somewhat father.

"It is pretty hard, actually. Besides Boomer literally doesn't do anything,"

"In what world?"

The boys began to argue, each time getting louder and louder, over who had the harder job.

When—

"Ahcem," a soft voice said, muted under the arguing, "Achem," it said, louder, "**ACHEM,**" the boys stopped in the middle of their sentences, and turned to see a girl with her arms crossed and her foot tapping.

"Sorry," they all muttered, and she smiled and went back into her room.

"Look," Butch said finally, "I don't think it really matters who has the harder job," he said, and the boys agreed.

"What matters is every Monday night we're put through the most vigourous training ever,"

"It's almost like he's preparing us for war," Boomer added.

"Why would he do that? He already has control over 7/8th of the world,"

"You never know with him," Butch said, yawning, "Night lame-os,"

…

Butch woke up the next day and called his boss.

"Jo, I'm sick, and I'm not coming in…_cough cough_," he said, doing a pathetic job at convincing his father that he truly was sick.

"How did you become sick? I do not want you to come because I do not want to get sick and if you are sick then I will become sick and—," Butch hung up the phone. He smirked to himself and he strutted outside of his room, the smell of pancakes in his nostrils.

_I like the place clean_. He thought, somewhat offhandedly.

"Hey there sexy," he said to the maid, winking. She smiled sweetly.

_Nice to see I still got it._

"How do you like your pancakes?" she asked.

"Doesn't matter. As long as they're made by one fine maid," again she giggled.

"Please ignore Butch's advances," Brick said, as he took the seat across from his brother.

"I don't mind," she said with a sweet smile, though her eyes were down and focused entirely on the pancakes. She put the pancakes on a plate and placed it in the middle of Butch and his brother, to which they fought over ravenously.

"Hey!" she said light-heartedly, "leave some for Boomer,"

"Nah he's already at work," Butch said, not looking up as he mauled his food.

"Oh," she responded, "I was wondering…could I take my off day today?" she said, the latter half sped up.

"Sure. You don't know how to get in and out though, do you?" Brick asked, looking up at her.

"Well, no," she responded, blushing.

"I'll take you," Butch said, hopping up to go get changed.

…

"There are only three floors in the building that are condos, the rest are business stuff, and the top is kinda like the head office," he said, once they got in the elevator. He pressed L and waited as the elevator lurched to life.

"That must be nice. How long has this skyscraper been here?"

"I dunno," he said, shrugging, "That's the kind of thing you ask Brick," he smiled sheepishly.

"I'll be sure to,"

"Have you ever been to Townsville?"

"Occasionally. I've lived on the outskirts since I was sixteen though,"

"Where did you live before then?" he said, inching slightly closer to her.

"It's not important," she said, smiling and turning her head to face him, her eyes widening in surprise at how close they were. The elevator dinged and she stepped ahead swiftly, leaving Butch hanging.

He brushed his bruised ego and followed after her.

"You'll need an ID card to come back to the fifty-fourth floor,"

"I don't have one," she said.

"Yeah, so just use mine, it'll only take you to the fortieth floor though. Just give me a ring and I'll come get you," he said, handing her his ID card.

"I don't have a cell phone," she said, embarrassed.

"Do you have an idea of when you'll be back?"

"Around five I think,"

"Ok I'll get you then,"

"Wait, how will you get there though…" she trailed off and Butch could tell she put the pieces together, "ok, thanks!" she said brightly, walking off.

_I'll have to get her a phone…_He thought. 

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: It's from Butch's point of view :D! I'm going to update a bit from their point of view, just so you guys can see both sides. And <em>gasp<em> he's hitting on Bubbles! Bad brother!**


	19. Tempers and Lies

**Boomer**

"No," he said, "get out, you're fired," he continued simply, waving his hand absent-mindedly at the assistant holding his suit in a laundry bag.

"But it's pressed just the way you like it," she protested.

"Yeah, but I'm really sick of you right now,"

"Fine," she said angrily, throwing his suit down before stomping out.

He pressed the intercom button but released it just as quickly, remembering he would have to do things manually. He picked up his phone and dialled his brother's extension.

"_What now Boomer?_" the other line said.

"I was just going to ask if you wanted to go to lunch,"

The other line sighed, "_Can't, remember? I'm swamped me with paperwork. Don't tell me, you've fired another one,"_

"What makes you say that?"

"_You call me for lunch every time you fire an assistant," _

"She got on my nerves,"

"_You really need to do something about your temper_,"

"I don't have a temper,"

"_Need I bring up the incident of the missing banana?_"

"No need, that was perfectly called for. Is it too much to ask for a simple banana?"

"_No, but throwing the entire kitchen out the window is too much_. _Do you have any idea how much in damages you cost us?_"

"Who cares about money when you rule the world? Look, Brick, if you don't want to, fine, I'll ask Butch,"

"_Good luck. You know he's either out with some girl or he's back at that restaurant. Jo said he called in sick,"_ Boomer sighed and hung up the phone on his brother.

Boomer tapped his desk, bored, not sure what he was supposed to do today. He was lost without an assistant.

_Maybe if they weren't so annoying I'd still have one._ He thought bitterly, thinking about his last 13 assistants.

Brenda, who gave him his coffee black when he had _clearly_ asked for half a teaspoon of sugar.

Emily, who pronounced his name Boo-mere. She had an accent, but still.

Sharon—she had red hair.

Sonny, too cheerful.

Hannah, she couldn't spell.

Gary, he had actually liked Gary but his brothers continually accused him of homosexuality, so he had to go.

Yvonne, he had thought her name started with an 'E'. What kind of a name starts with a _'Y'? _She had to go.

Stephanie, she quit, something about him being crazy.

Rebecca, he dated her. It was just awkward after that. So he killed two birds with one stone—dumped and fired all on the same day.

Eliza, she had a British accent. He'd liked it at first, but most of the time he had no idea what she was saying.

Heather, he didn't like the outfit she was wearing.

Jenny, a complete ditz.

Jenna, the latest one who just annoyed him beyond belief.

He sighed to himself as he placed another ad for a new assistant, putting the demand as high, because he had no idea what to do without one.

...

**Brick**

Brick finished his work early, and was about to leave his office when his phone rang, he didn't have to look at the caller ID to know who it was—it was the fourth time he'd called.

"What now Boomer?" He asked, irritated.

"_I was just going to ask if you wanted to go to lunch,"_

He sighed, "Can't, remember? I'm swamped me with paperwork," _lunch means he's fired someone again…_

"Don't tell me, you've fired another one_," _Brick lied to his brother, knowing that going to lunch with him after he'd fired someone always involved Boomer going on about how annoying they were.

"_What makes you say that?"_

"You call me for lunch every time you fire an assistant,"

"_She got on my nerves,"_

"You really need to do something about your temper,"

"_I don't have a temper,"_

"Need I bring up the incident of the missing banana?"

"_No need, that was perfectly called for. Is it too much to ask for a simple banana?"_

"No, but throwing the entire kitchen out the window is too much. Do you have any idea how much in damages you cost us?"

"_Who cares about money when you rule the world? Look, Brick, if you don't want to, fine, I'll ask Butch_,"

"Good luck. You know he's either out with some girl or he's back at that restaurant. Jo said he called in sick," Brick waited for his brother to hang up and he walked outside of his office, dialing another number into his phone.

"_Hello?_" a feminine voice asked.

"Hey," he said, smiling even though she couldn't see him.

"_Who's this?_"

"Brick," he said, feeling slightly hurt.

"_Oh, hi Brick. Sorry I don't have caller ID,_"

"Oh," he said, laughing slightly, "I was wondering if you wanted to go to lunch,"

"_Are you going to take me somewhere as sophisticated as the last time?_" She asked, laughing.

He thought back to earlier that month—he had stopped visiting XXX, much to his brother's dismay. He was spending his Saturday night, instead, by walking around through the deserted Townsville aimlessly. Not too many people walked at night, but he could do so freely. They were after all, hiding from people like him.

**He heard her before he saw her, she was saying goodbye to someone on the phone, and her soft laughter warmed up the cold night. **

**She noticed him immediately, gasping before she was about to walk past.**

**"Hello," she said, bringing back the chill.**

**"Oh, hi," he said, smiling. She didn't return it. **

**_Why would she?_**

**They stood in silence before she started walking again, her heels clicking loudly in the quiet of the night.**

**"Wait," and her back tensed as she turned around, "do you want to get something to eat?"**

**"Now? It's 2 in the morning,"**

**"So?" he said, with a smile. She looked reluctant, but she said yes eventually, walking back to him.**

**"Where to?" she asked.**

**"Nowhere special,"**

**They walked in silence as he led her to the only 24 hour restaurant—Ronald's. She laughed lightly when she realized where he was taking her. **

**"Classy," she said playfully. **

**"I do my best to impress," he said, pushing away his awkward self. Being around her almost opened something he forgot he had. They ordered and sat in a booth in front of the windows.**

**"So um…what do you do? Oh, wait, never mind," **

**"I was going to ask if you had a short attention span or something," she said, laughing. She ate her food, talking to him without ensuing eye contact.**

**"You remind me of someone I used to know,"**

**"I do?" this seemed to frighten her, but he couldn't see why, "Who?"**

**"It doesn't matter," he said simply. **

**"Thanks for taking me out to the classiest place on the block," she said with a wink, picking up her tray and tossing it out. **

**"Here's my number," he said, handing her a card, "don't be a stranger," and with that she smiled thanks and left.**

_Brick you're so stupid. 'Don't be a stranger' ? Who _says _that?_ _Well it worked, didn't it? She called you._

"Maybe,"

"_Well I'll look forward to it. Where should I meet you?_"

"Where are you right now?"

"_At home,_"

"Where's that? I'll come get you,"

"_Um…it's at 1432 apartment complex, south of RRB Corp._" she said.

"Ok, I'll see you there,"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Oh Boomer when will you learn? Oh ... when I make you...awkward...It's short only because I knew where I wanted to end it, and it just so happened that there wasn't much before it...anyway...<strong>

**Brick and Beatrice? What? I know right!**


	20. Nowhere To Be Found

~Blossom~

"No sign of her," her sister's voice said through the phone, as Beatrice made her way through the grocery store.

"But it's been weeks!" she protested.

"I think I scared her off or offended her or something,"

"Enough to force her to live under a rock? We've been searching everywhere, going through records,"

"Well it's kind of hard considering we don't even know her name,"

"I didn't think it'd be _this_ hard," she said, trying to decide between which brand of shampoo to buy.

"How are your headaches, by the way?"

"I haven't had one for a while," she said absentmindedly.

"That's good," her sister remarked, to which Beatrice found herself nodding to—even though she couldn't be seen, "let's just face it, B, wherever she is, she doesn't want to be found. Maybe she's living a better life. Why don't we focus on getting rid of the enemy?"

Beatrice sighed, "I guess you're right. If we find her, it will just be icing on the cake. Come over tonight and we'll talk about a plan,"

"_Bianca, your break is over!_" a French woman called through the phone, "Coming Madame! Sorry B I gotta go. I'll see you tonight though!" she said, clicking off.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: It's very short and sorry if it's a bit confusing but this is <em>before<em> the events that occurred last chapter and around the same time as the events in the chapter "Butch". I'm still going to be writing from the boy's pov, but I just wanted to throw this in there just so you guys know where the girls stand. **


	21. Wanna Bet?

**Butch**

_Forget her. Since when were you one to obsess over a stupid girl? She doesn't like you, so get over it._

But he couldn't get over it. He visited the restaurant every day until 7 days had been up, and on two of those days she wasn't even working. And each day he was nowhere closer to charming her. He felt bad about himself, wondering if there was something wrong with him. That's why he did what he did.

_"Teach me how to swim or I'll shut this restaurant down," he said._

_"You wouldn't dare," she said, narrowing her eyes._

_"Wanna bet?"_

So here he was, an hour early for his lesson, wondering when he became a waiting guy. He liked her attitude, he thought she was hot and the way she seemed disinterested just made him all the more enticed.

He looked at the water—his worst enemy. It danced viciously, even though it was a pool and there was nobody in it.

_Maybe I do need a therapist, because I'm obviously losing it…_

Lately all he could really think about was her. Her smile (rarely seen), her laughter (mostly at him) and the way she walked was just hypnotizing. Other girls didn't even interest him anymore, and he'd only known Bianca for about three weeks now. It was his third lesson, and he still hadn't touched the water.

_"So you mean to tell me you don't even shower?"_

_"No! I shower. This is different…"_

_"Hardly,"_

"Hey loser," she said, as she walked past him ready for swimming.

"You're late,"

"What difference does it make?" she said with a laugh, running and jumping into the pool with the utmost ease, "Any chance you'll let your toe touch the water?"

"No,"

She sighed angrily as she dove under, and stayed under, leaving Butch to wonder if she had drowned. He came to the edge of the pool and looked for her body.

"Bianca?" he called out. Suddenly, as though there was a monster in the pool, something grabbed his ankles and pulled him in, plunging him into the water.

_He pushed him down into the pool, holding him under despite his thrashs._

_"It will build your stamina," he had said, "remove all fear of death,"_

_But it hadn't. It just made things worse._

"Help! I'm drowning! I'm drowning,"

"Don't be so dramatic," Bianca said, revealing herself to be the one who had pulled him under, "you're fine, see?" she said, referring to the fact that his floaty and 2 pairs of water wings had saved him.

"That was _you?_ Are you crazy? You could have killed me!" he shouted, causing something to flicker past her eyes, just as quickly as it did, it was gone.

"I didn't, though, did I?" she said, swimming backwards from him, "kick towards me," she said.

"No,"

"Has it killed you yet?"

"No,"

"So what makes you think moving your legs will speed up the process?"

He looked at her angrily as he started kicking towards her, feeling stupid.

"See? Your doing great," something about the way she said it made it sound forced, and he dug his hand into the water and brought it up, spraying her with a wave of water—even though he meant to simply splash her.

When the water settled he smiled sheepishly at the angry ebony-haired girl.

"Guess I don't know my own strength,"

"I think you know it just fine," she growled, "and if you weren't threatening to shut down the restaurant, I wouldn't even be here,"

"I'm still paying you," he said.

"You're not paying me to like you," she said, as she moved her hair back into place.

He raised an eyebrow, "I could…"

"You would just be wasting money. Now start kicking towards me so I don't go home thinking you're paying me just to watch me swim around half naked,"

Again he raised an eyebrow.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: hope you liked it :D<strong>


	22. Jail

~Buttercup~

Bianca always loved December, the air was crisp and Christmas was just right around the corner, and this year she would spend it with family. Well, half of her family anyway.

_Where is Bubbles?_ She thought, as she regularly did since she had found Blossom.

"Hey there gorgeous," she cringed, but she forced a smile.

_"Be nice,"_

_"But you don't know what a pain he is!"_

_"Sorry, do you want this to work or no?"_

"Hi Butch, what's up?" She had successfully avoided him for the most part of December, as she had as him for the holidays off.

"Just taking in the beauty of this fine day,"

"Yeah, it's really nice out,"

"Oh yeah that too," he said with a smirk, Bianca scowled.

_Be nice._

"Always the charmer,"

_Being nice…is harder than I thought it would be. How does she expect me to be _nice_ to my worst enemy?_

They were walking along together, and Bianca wondered how it was that he didn't recognize her. Her hair was longer, true, no longer in her typical bob. And yes, she had grown over the years—looking more like a woman than a child. But she still recognized him—she would never forget his face.

"Well?"

"Sorry what?" She said, jumping back into reality.

"Do you want to go out tonight?"

_No. Sorry Bloss, but there is a difference between being nice and becoming his friend and actually _dating_ him. _

"No way in hell," she said, picking up her pace.

"Don't say I didn't warn you…" he yelled after her.

…

"Do you need ay ride 'ome, Bianca?" Madame DeFranc asked her.

"Nah, I feel like walking today,"

"Are you sure? You know it is no trouble," Madame said, looking at Bianca with worried eyes.

"Yeah it's fine,"

Walking around at night in December was a luxury Bianca could only afford every so often. Nights when the city was quiet, and relatively free of any trouble occurred whenever business was slow. She said her goodbyes to her coworkers, as she put her earmuffs over her head, enjoying the sudden burst of cold air.

"Miss Bianca Tetherworth?" A serious voice called Bianca from behind her, as she wondered who it was that knew her 'last' name too—something she didn't give out often. She turned around and was surprised to see to police officers staring at her, frowning.

"Yes?"

"You're under arrest," said the taller, portlier one of the three, signalling to the other two to cuff and restrain her.

"What? Why? What did I do?" She said, as she was cuffed and dragged to a police car.

"You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a law of court…" but Bianca stopped listening as she was pushed into the car, trying to figure out what she did wrong.

She had remained careful—following even the smallest of laws, not wanting to get caught. What could she have done to get herself arrested? She didn't even download anything illegally—not that RRB cared about that kind of stuff anyway.

When she reached the Townsville police station, she thought of the irony; _all those times I have thrown people in here, only to end up here by those I was helping…_she chuckled darkly to herself.

She was tossed in to the cell closest to the warden's desk and she realized how bad it hurt to be thrown in to prison.

…

"Good morning beautiful," a familiar voice called out, as Bianca opened her eyes with a groan, "you know I think I like you like that," her vision quickly changed from morning haze to alert as she jumped up and went to the bars, narrowing her eyes.

"Butch," she growled, "were you behind this?"

"Maybe, and maybe not," he said shrugging.

"Isn't that hilarious," she said coldly, not a hint of humour in her voice.

"Will you go out with me?"

"You're sick, you know that?"

"So, is that still a no?" he said with a wink, staring at her shamelessly.

"I can't believe you sunk this low," she said, crossing her arms.

"Ok, fine, keep her in there boys!" he said, putting his hands in his pockets and walking away slowly, humming a song softly.

"I want my one phone call!" she shouted, as the door to the police station shut. The warden obliged, and opened her cell as he walked her to the phone.

She dialled the number she had grown so used to calling and waited while it rung, "_Hello?_" the other line said.

"It's Bianca,"

"_Oh, hey. I can't really talk right now—I'm out,"_ she said, whispering the last part.

"Well that's just dandy but I'm in prision," Bianca flinched as she heard the sound of Beatrice choking on whatever she was drinking.

"**_Are you ok?_**_" _an unfamiliar voice asked on the other line, "_Yeah I'm fine, don't worry. I just have to take this,"_ she said, and Bianca waited until she spoke again, "_Why are you in prison?"_

"I refused a date,"

"_He asked you out? You should have said yes stupid!_"

"But Bea—," she said, whining.

"_No buts. Now go say yes to him!"_ her sister chided, and with a click she was gone. Bianca put the phone back on its receiver and grumbled on her way back to the cell.

…

She figured it was about noon when she saw her dark haired counterpart again.

"Changed your mind yet?"

"I don't know, did you get any less ugly?" she said, not even looking at him.

_That has to be the most childish response you've ever come up with._

"Prison seems to be doing a number on your wit," his dark green eyes sparkled with amusement.

_He noticed._

"I don't like you," she said, feeling defeated.

"Alright, bye!"

"Wait,"

"What was that?"

"Fine,"

"I think I need you to say it,"

"Fine! I'll go out with you!"

"With little old me? Why, I thought you'd never ask!"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: hope you liked it :D...if not, excuse me while I go cry..<strong>

**Also special thanks to: **

**Joydream-for the wonderful review!**

** hi- first, thanks for reviewing. And second, I think I wrote Bubbles the way I did because I always saw her as the most forgiving character on the show, she is after all 'the joy and laughter'. I dunno. I just saw her as less afraid I guess. **

**Writerfortysevenandstuff- thanks so much for finally reviewing haha!**

**likeitlikeitlikeit-thanks :)**

**and of course constant thanks to 1000GreenSun for always leaving helpful tips and awesome reviews, and Twilight Rose for reviewing each chapter :D**

**you guys are GREAT :D**


	23. For You

**Update: **

**Hi guys! Sorry for not uploading anything today I am in the process of writing Brick and Blossom's date, which originally I wasn't going to include, but so many of you seemed to be really excited about it so I decided to finish writing it after all. I just want it to be perfect so you guys aren't disappointed when I _do_ put it up. Anyways, this is just a little apology because I know how easy it is to be pulled out of a story when an author doesn't update a lot. Of course, I have been updating multiple times since I posted this story three days ago, but nonetheless I still feel bad :P. Also, thanks again for the reviews, it means a lot to me that people are reading my story (although the main characters are _not_ mine, but the plot is).**

**Water Fairy a.k.a. Mizu- I'm so glad you enjoy my story! Thanks so much for reviewing :)!**

* * *

><p>~Bubbles~<p>

Being outdoors in the winter always put a smile on Belle's face, especially since she didn't get to do it often while working for the Furds. It felt _freeing_ to be able to wear colours again-particularly blue, her favourite. And Butch had been so nice to her that morning, she was just all around happy.

It was dangerous to be out when it started to get darker-especially when the days were getting shorter, colder, and filled with more snow, so she headed back early, like she had said she would.

In her hands she held shopping bags-she had blown her first paycheck, but she didn't mind. Before, at the Furds, she had a weekly allowance-how much she was allowed to spend each day. Considering the fact that the boys didn't seem to care, Belle went all out.

She waited on the fifty-forth floor as she was instructed to and before long Butch came smashing in.

"Hello gorgeous," he said, his face red from the cold and his black hair windblown. Belle always felt awkward whenever Butch would compliment her, for two reasons. The first being the most obvious-he was the one who had killed her sisters and Belle included. The second reason was that to her, Butch was almost exactly like Buttercup (with obvious differences) and every time he winked, or attempted to charm her, it felt as though he was her sister. It felt..._wrong._ Nonetheless, she still smiled and blushed because that was what he wanted to see.

"Brick's going to be mad you smashed through the window _again,_" she said playfully.

"Eh, he won't notice. He's on a _date_," he said strutting towards her.

"You seem in a good mood," she remarked, to which he brushed imaginary lint of his shoulders.

"I got a date with a hot chick,"

"How nice," she said with a smile.

"Don't worry baby I still think you're sexy,"

He had mistaken her compliment for jealousy.

"I don't doubt that you do,"

"Oh! By the way," he said, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a phone, "I got you a cell phone. It's all set up and everything,"

"Thanks Butch, but I can't afford a cell phone right now," she said, gesturing to her shopping bags.

"I'll just raise your salary,"

"I couldn't ask you to do that for me,"

"You don't have to," he said simply. With that, he swooped her shopping bags up and then went over to get her as he shot out through the same window and flew up towards their condo.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Short but sweet (I hope). :)<strong>


	24. Relax

**Brick.**

"Sorry about that," the green eyed girl said, as she flashed a smile and sat back down across from him. She was wearing light blue ripped jeans and a pink long-sleeved shirt, complimenting her auburn hair and the jeans hugging her curves perfectly.

Her hair was slightly curled and her face shape almost exactly resembled that of his maid's. _Small world._ He thought.

"No worries, is everything okay?" he said, passing his menu to a waitress, the both of them having just ordered.

"Yeah," she said, shrugging.

He had wanted to take her to the fanciest restaurant—but that was in the third floor of RRB corp., and it just felt awkward taking her to his workplace. So instead, he took her somewhere casual but not as causal as Ronald's—a place called Chez, since Butch had thought it was so amazing.

Brick had thought at the time that his bigoted brother was simply saying that because he found a girl who worked there attractive, but had decided to take a risk and it turned out his brother actually had some taste.

He thought back to when he had gone to pick her up-he felt like a teenage girl, he couldn't decide if they should walk or if he should pick her up in his car. Walking was good for talking, but it was cold outside. A car kept you warm, but often increased the tension. Eventually he decided on walking, opting to give her his coat if she was cold.

Brick had been talking to Beatrice for a while now, almost a month since their first 'date' at Ronald's after which he scolded himself for picking Ronald's for a first date. At the time he had thought it would be a good icebreaker, but he left feeling that she thought he was cheap.

_You're thinking too much into a simple lunch date._

"How long have you lived in Townsville?" he asked, as the waitress brought them their drinks.

"All my life," she said, after some thought.

"Have you ever left?"

"Not for long," as she said that, Brick noticed how her eyes always seemed to sparkle with knowledge, as though she knew more than she was letting on. He didn't have a qualm about it, either—she was so much smarter than she let show.

_No screw ups this time._

"How about you?"

"I was actually born in a prision,"

"I don't doubt it," she said, laughing.

"I'm not _so_ bad," he responded, faying hurt.

"Maybe I like bad boys," she said, after which she threw her head back in laughter.

"I'm actually pretty hardcore,"

"Seems to me like you're indecisive,"

"I don't know about that…" She laughed again, and Brick realized how much he loved the sound of her soft laughter.

"Have you always wanted to be a dancer?"

"There was a time," she said, taking a sip of her iced tea, "when I wanted something different. Dance eventually just became a way for me to release negative emotions—I never imagined I'd be_ that_ kind of dancer though," she said with a giggle.

"Do you—,"

"Is this a date or an interview?" she said with a wink, making him feel slightly embarrassed, "just talk," she put her hand over his and looked up at him, "don't think too much about it,"

He felt a mix of emotions. The first was elation: she had called it a _date._ It was childish to be excited about her upgrading going to lunch to going on a date. He felt nervous next, and then he was slightly angry at himself.

"Let's play the word game—I'm the best at it. I'm going to say a word, and you have to say the _first_ word that comes to mind, even if it doesn't make sense or you've said it already, ok?" the red headed mystery said.

"Alright, seems easy enough,"

"Hippo," she began.

"Fat," she laughed at that.

"Rude,"

"Honest,"

"Okay,"

"Chinese Food,"

"Delicious,"

"Disagree,"

As he let go of his inhibitions, he began to _truly_ see what a beautiful person Beatrice justly was.

"What did you want to be when you were little?" she said, after they had a fit of laughter over Brick fumbling his words with the waitress.

"What?" he said, the smile still on his face.

"What did you want to be when you were little?"

"What I am now," he said with a shrug, "nobody has ever expected any different,"

"Oh come on. Think hard; when you were little who did you _really_ want to be?"

"I wanted to be an astronaut," he said, laughing—inviting her to laugh too.

"That's really cute, Brick! You should have at least tried," she smiled at him sympathetically—both parties knew that anything other than what he was now wasn't really an option. Though how _she_ knew that, was beyond him.

"What did _you_ want to be?"

"It's not important,"

"Hey! I told you mine,"

"Get to know me better," she said simply.

…

"Did you want any dessert?" The waitress asked, as she was picking up their main meals.

"Do you?" he asked her.

"Only if you'll share with me," she said smiling.

"Why not?"

They ordered ice cream, and when it arrived, Beatrice got straight to eating it.

"You know, if you were going to eat it all you should have ordered your own," he said light-heartedly.

"I'm not going to eat it all—you're just slow,"

…

As the last of the ice cream disappeared, Brick couldn't help but notice that they had been holding hands the whole time, neither of them realizing it.

"You're really great, you know that?" he said, causing her to brush and look away, pulling her hand with her.

"Thanks, but I'm nothing special,"

He grabbed her hand back, "No, really," and something about how serious his face was made Beatrice become serious too.

"You're not what I expected,"

"I'm glad,"

And he was. Everyone always expects him to be the cruellest, meanest of the bunch—with the coldest heart. It warmed him to know not everyone saw him that way. It was even better hearing it from someone as wonderful as the girl sitting in front of him.

_"Nobody has to die,"_

_"Don't be stupid. Someone always dies,"_

He blinked at the memory and pulled his hand away, causing the girl in front of him to ask with sincerity, "Are you ok?" But she didn't look like Beatrice—she suddenly began to look a lot like Blossom.

_But she's dead._

Just as quickly as it was there, it disappeared, and he felt stupid for having imagined anyone else other than the beautiful, intelligent girl sitting in front of him.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: So there it is! I hope it is <em>everything<em> you dreamed of, if not...sorry :(...but I can't please everyone and if it's not perfect feel free to review about it! If you're wondering why I said "green eyed" though it hasn't been mentioned before (but I think it has been hinted at, unless I ommited that part in the final draft) that Blossom wears contacts. **

**TomboyIsAwesome- I love Chinese food! And thank you so much :), when I get a really good idea [usually comes to me whilst procrastinating] I have to get started on it immediately. I hope this chapter feeds your hunger.**

**As usual, your reviews are great :)!**


	25. A Real Green Dress

~Blossom~

Blossom came into her apartment with a wide smile pasted on her face. She had to walk here from the apartment complex she had told Brick she lived at, but she didn't mind it.

She felt euphoric.

"Are you high?" an irritated voice asked.

"What? No! Why?"

"Because you came in here smiling like an idiot,"

"My face froze that way in the cold," she lied, "how did you get in?"

"You need better locks," she responded, shrugging, "thanks to _you_ I have a _date_ tonight with _Butch_," she strolled to her sister.

"Bianca don't be mad at me—were you just going to rot in jail?"

"Maybe," she said, "Ok fine, no, I wasn't," she said, elongating the 'o' in no.

"Thought so," she hummed, "Ok come into my bedroom and we'll see what to do with that hair of yours,"

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"Where is he taking you again?"

"Aberthanary's,"

"Thought so. That place is the classiest of the class. You want him to like you, don't you?"

"No," she responded grumpily.

"We need him to like you, don't we?" she rephrased.

"Yes," she said, defeated.

…

"All done," Beatrice said with a smile.

"Finally," she opened her eyes and pouted, "no,"

"What's wrong with it?"

"It's too fancy,"

"Bianca, you look so pretty,"

"Do I have to wear a dress?" her hot tempered sister whined.

"You like dresses now!" Beatrice objected.

"Yeah, but not when I _have _to!"

"Well you have to; it's Aberthanary's policy,"

"Ok, fine, what have you got for me?"

Beatrice smiled widely in excitement—it wasn't often her sister allowed her to pick her wardrobe.

"I don't have a lot of green—it's your best colour—but I think I have just the thing,"

She searched around in her closet until she finally found the perfect dress.

"Oh no," Bianca's eyes widened, "I am _not_ wearing _that_,"

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Another short lil one but I'm updating soon so you guys can survive on this one tee hee :). Why is Blossom 'euphoric' ? Because her plan was working<em>? OR<em> Because maybe she had fun?**

**I'm not saying anything, at this point it could be either or he . he . he .**

**KeroNya- I'm glad you're addicted :$..here's a lil reward for your addiction! A neeew chapter :D**

**As usual, your reviews are great :)!**


	26. Waiting

~Buttercup~

Bianca tapped her heel foot under the table impatiently, her anger growing. She had slightly pulled out her sister's hard work on her hair, feeling uncomfortable with her hair looking that formal. Instead it was now in a slack chignon, and she huffed at a loose hair in front of her face.

She had ordered half an hour ago, and now was on her third glass of white wine, deciding that _if_ he showed up, he would have a hefty fine to pay. She swirled her glass with resentment.

A green flash lightly rustled her hair and she rolled her eyes as her date appeared before her.

"Wow," he said sincerely, looking at her.

"You're late," was all she said.

"Sorry, I had business to take care of—,"

"I ordered already," she cut him off.

"Oh, okay, I'll just call the waitress over and order for myself," she didn't say anything. Even as he called the waitress over and ordered, his eyes sparkling the same way it did when he would flirt with a girl, Bianca didn't say anything.

"Did you wait long?" he said, putting his attention on her after checking out the waitress's ass.

She didn't say anything.

"Okay…you know they have the _best_ desserts here," he said in an attempt to change the subject.

She took a sip of her wine, not saying anything.

"I'm glad you agreed to this," he said instead.

"You make it seem like I had a choice," she mumbled, too low for him to hear.

"Come on, Bianca, say something," he pleaded lightly.

"Why? Are you going to throw me in prison if you don't? Or shut down my restaurant, that I helped bring to the popularity it is to this with hard work and dedication—something you've probably never heard of," she spat; the venom in her voice could have been heard in the loudest of occasions.

"Look, I said I'm sorry I'm late—,"

"Oh _please_, as if _that's_ why I'm mad. The fact that you threw me in jail only to have me wait forty-five minutes for you in some prissy restaurant, is just icing on the cake. Do you even listen to yourself when you talk?" She said the latter part with more honest curiosity than hate, "The only reason I'm still here is because I don't want to go to jail for something I don't deserve," she said, calming down slightly.

_Giggle at his jokes, touch him lightly, and always keep eye contact. Oh, if Beatrice could see me now, she'd chew my head off. I know I'm ruining the plan, but there has to be another way than this._

"I didn't realize you were so upset with me," he said simply.

"How? Does everything I say just go over your head? To say I don't understand how girls swoon over you would possibly be the understatement of the year,"

"I'm really sorry, Bianca," he said, his head down. It caught her slightly off guard, and she couldn't tell if he was being sincere or if it was another tactic of his but in the end she decided to let it go.

Both parties silently agreed that it would be a waste to leave while food was on the way, so they waited there, surrounded by families and couples having a good time.

…

"Did you want me to walk you home?" Butch asked her, after they had finished dinner and he walked her to the first floor of RRB Corp.

"I can handle myself quite well, thanks," she said calmly.

"Alright," he responded, putting his hands in the pocket of his suit.

As she walked outside into the bitter cold air, she almost felt bad for being so mean to him.

_The look on his eyes when I snapped at him I did not see coming._ She thought.

Out of nowhere, something hit her in the back and she thought she was under attack. She turned around to see Butch turning over to pick up snow before forming it into a ball, a giant smirk on his face.

Bianca couldn't help it, _Oh it's on_. She did the same as him, dodging his most recent blow as she threw a snowball at him, nailing him in the face. She laughed lightly as he wiped the snow off his face.

It felt good to hit him.

Before he had time to react, Bianca threw more and more snowballs at him, soaking his once slicked back hair.

"You think that's funny?" he said angrily.

"I think it's hilarious," she said, laughing, even though her hands were going slightly numb. He rushed towards her in a green flash and swooped her up in the air, shoving snow into her face, "no fair, you can't use your powers," she said competitively.

"I'd beat you either way," the overconfidence dripping in his voice.

"Well then how come I'm dry and you're soaked?"

"I let you,"

"You _let_ me?" she laughed again, as he flew towards the ground.

They ran through the streets, Bianca's bootie's clomping down the street, every so often turning to throw another snow ball at Butch. The two of them were both overly competitive, so the thrill of the game—even one as simple as a snowball fight—made the adrenaline rush in their veins.

The events of the previous week had disappeared into the night, the only thought on Bianca's mind being how much she wanted to win.

She picked up her speed, her cheeks red in the cold wind, when her heart dropped as she slipped on slush and lost her footing.

In a green flash, before she could even think, the muscular boy had caught her, and brought her back to her feet.

The only sound to be heard was the sound of their heavy breathing, the both of them in a cold sweat.

"Thanks," she said, breathless. Being this close to him on the ground, both their hearts beating in unison, was different than when he had held her in the sky.

Perhaps because his motives were different, or maybe because suddenly this fight became about more than just winning; she wasn't sure.

She felt hot in his arms-her back to his chest, and though she liked it, she began to feel uncomfortable.

"I won," she said, once she had gotten out of his arms.

"What are you-," but he didn't get to finish what he was saying. His eyes widened at something behind her, and when she turned to look, whatever it was ran into her and knocked her out.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Thanks for reviewing! I was worried you guys didn't like it D: ... hope you guys like <em>this<em> one !**

**1000GreenSun- you're on the right track ;). And I _am_ going to go into detail in it, quite possibly in the chapter after the next.**


	27. Have You Forgotten?

**Disclaimer:**

**I do not own BlackBerry nor do I endorse it. Or the power puff girls for that matter. I am however a fan of both :D**

* * *

><p><strong>Boomer<strong>

Boomer came home with a smile on his face. He had fired Jenna—or Jenny, he couldn't remember, and was excited to interview new candidates. It was something of a hobby to him, to fire and hire an assistant.

"Do you have a date too?" a cheerful voice asked, as he strolled into the kitchen, grabbing an apple.

"No, why?"

She laughed, "Both your brothers do,"

"_Brick_ has a date?"

"Mhmm," she said, her voice taking on a sly tone, "are you _jealous_ of your brother?"

"No," he said, taking a large bite of his apple, "what's that?" he jerked his head towards the black object in her hand.

"Oh—it's called a BlackBerry," she smiled, "there's this really fun game on it, it's called brick breaker,"

"Yeah, I know, I have one," he said, with a loose wave of his hand, "I thought you said you couldn't afford one?"

"I couldn't, but Butch was nice enough to buy it for me. I didn't take it at first, but he offered to raise my salary. He really wanted me to have it," she said, not looking at him.

"I'll be right back," he said, his voice stiff. He looked down at his hands and noticed he had crushed the apple, the juice dripping on his hand. He opened it carelessly and let it drop on the floor, before bursting out the glass window.

He didn't have to fly far to find him—he was not too far from RRB Corp, talking to some girl. He flew forwards, not caring about what was in his way, as he lifted his brother by the collar and threw him into the air.

"Boomer, what's your problem? You might've hurt her!" he said, moving to go back to the street, only to be blocked by his steam headed brother.

"**You. Knew. I. Liked. Her**," he said, with each word throwing a punch at his dark haired brother, who easily avoided them by flying higher.

"I was wondering when you'd find out. I was hoping never,"

"**How could you do that? You knew how much I liked her!"**

"Oh really? What's her favourite colour? What's her last name?" he taunted, and Boomer had to admit he didn't know those things.

"**What, like you know?"**

"Blue, and her last name is Affablé," he said, sticking his tongue out at his brother. Boomer froze in midair.

"**It's nearly been a month, if you gave me time I would have found those things out**!" he rushed forwards in the air.

"You didn't even know her name! You need a month to find out her last name?"

"**I know it now! Besides, you broke bro code,**" again, he lunged for his brother.

"She was fair game!"

"**You bought her a cell phone!**"

"She needed one!"

"_What is going on?_" a dark voice called. Before they knew it, the boys were transferred from the dark night air to a redder atmosphere.

"Way to go Boomer," his brother grumbled angrily.

"_What is going on? Here I was, taking a nice nap,_ **_when I heard you two fighting_**, _honestly it's like you're still children,_"

"Butch—,"

"_Whatever it was, knock it off_," HIM said, circling the two boys, "_I've been noticing the two of you have been getting close to some ladies,_"

"It's nothing—,"

_"If it was_ nothing, _Butch, I would have let it alone. Like those sluts you seem to attract. But this doesn't_ look _like nothing,_"

"I-,"

"_And you, Boomer, aren't you supposed to get engaged? Hmm? Or have you forgotten?_"

"I haven't forgotten—,"

"**_Then why are you focusing on some girl? _**_Speaking of her,_ _doesn't she look familiar to you?_"

"No, I—,"

"_She looks_ familiar_ to me._ _Keep an eye on that one, but not too close. If we want the world, then we need to merge with that man. And in order to do that, you need to keep his daughter happy,_"

"But—,"

"**_No exceptions!_**" And with that, they were returned back to regular Townsville, and Butch was gone in a green flash.

_I had forgotten._ Boomer thought. _I'm supposed to marry Princess._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: I've introduced another problem! Also another character (technically two)<strong>


	28. Strange Surroundings

~Buttercup~

Bianca woke up with a groan as she put her hands over her face and started to roll out of bed. The second her feet touched the ground, she froze as she realized, _this is not my floor_. She opened her eyes wide and blinked to get the haze out, as she looked around the tinted green room, trying to remember what had happened the night before.

She fumbled around on the floor for her purse, hoping it was still there, and when it was she whipped out her phone and dialled her sister.

"_Hello?_"

"Beatrice," she whispered, "it's me,"

"_Bianca? Why are you whispering?_"

"I don't know where I am," she whispered again, her eyes searching for something to signify where she was. And then she saw it—right there on the door in big, green, block letters "BUTCH".

"_You don't?_"

"Scratch that…I think I'm in Butch's room," she whispered, still staring at the door.

"_How did you—never mind. Obviously you need to get out of there, but see if you can find anything,_"

"Fine," she replied, getting up slowly and putting the phone back in her purse. She searched throughout the room, not finding anything significant. She made her way to the desk, deciding anything important would be at a desk.

It was a messy desk—in one corner stood a picture frame of an older looking, somewhat serious Mojo Jojo, his smile subtle, and the Rowdy Ruff Boys surrounding him, each having one arm touching him with a smile on their faces. In the other corner stood a similar picture frame, this time of an ageless, smiling HIM and three, not so happy boys.

On the desk papers were scattered and crumpled, though once she opened them she saw they didn't matter. Erasers, pens, a laptop with a password, empty coke bottles, empty chip bags, and his wallet. She was about to give up on the desk when she noticed a paper turned over on his desk, underneath his wallet. She turned it over, not quite sure to expect, and she put her hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp.

It was an ink drawing of her—well, Bianca—sleeping in his bed. She had never seen anything more beautiful, and she couldn't believe that was her. The only reason she _knew_ it was of her was in the corner it said "Bianca" in muddled boy writing.

_He can't write well, but he can draw?_ Bianca thought, slightly amused.

She sighed as she crouched down to open the only drawer the desk had and yanked it open only to see it was full of similar ink drawings like the one on his desk. She pulled the pile out and placed it on her lap as she sat down, carefully flipping through them.

The first fifteen or so were of Bianca doing various activities—rolling her eyes, swimming, taking an order—his, she assumed—walking the streets, smiling, behind bars. She had trouble comprehending that someone as destructive as Butch could ever draw so delicately.

There were other pictures too, of fall, winter, plenty of spring. Lots of other women, though none were drawn as neatly as any of his other photos. At one point, all she saw was a green eye—the only pictures with colour—against a completely black background. There were about twenty five of those, the eye drawn with less and less care as she went through them. Finally, she saw herself.

Not Bianca, but Buttercup. She flipped through the pictures of her and almost felt like she was going back in time, ending when she was eight, remarking on how as she went back through the pile, the drawings became more and more juvenile.

_He must not have looked through his pictures in a while_. Bianca thought, with slow horror. The pictures of Buttercup looked eerily similar to those of Bianca—most notably the eyes. _If he looks through these, I'm doomed. _She panicked, and decided he wouldn't miss his drawings of Buttercup, and hastily stuffed them into her large black purse, not caring about how small the pile of drawings looked as she put them back in order into the drawer.

She took a deep breath and opened the door to the hallway.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Hmm what ch'yu guys think? Is Bianca going to see Belle :[D? Or am I a <em>bit<em> more evil than that? To be honest I haven't really decided yet :^). **

**And also:**

**Skye96- thank you :)! And aha don't you worry, I'll start to put in a lot more Reds (and Blues-my favourite). I've written a lot of Greens because their interaction seems to be my favourite to write atm :P**


	29. I See You

**Butch**

Butch was nursing his pounding headache from last night's dream, when Brick came up from behind and hit him what Butch assumed was meant to be playfully, but it hurt way too much.

"Butch brought a girl home last night," he said, taking a cup of coffee from Belle.

"Oh?" the blonde asked, taking a sip of her own coffee.

"I had to. Boomer knocked her out cold," he said grumpily.

"Butch," she said reprovingly, "I hope you didn't take advantage of her,"

"What do you take me for, a pervert?" he asked, to which everyone shrugged guilty, avoiding his gaze, "No, I slept on the floor,"

"Where is Boomer, anyways?" Brick asked.

"I don't know, probably grumbling angrily in his room. He earned us a visit from HIM last night," Belle squeaked, and dove underneath the counter, "Um, Belle?" he asked, slowly, looking at his brother with a weirded out expression.

"Oh, um, don't worry, just spilt some coffee on myself…and the floor…" she said awkwardly, "but, um, I think your friend is up," she said, her voice climbing pitches.

"Achem," he turned around and suddenly felt embarrassed at the fact that all he was wearing was green boxers, even though she had seen him in his swimming trunks. Her hair was out of the bun-thing it was in last night and cascaded down her back. There was a slight black line underneath her eyes, but other than that her face and eyes were completely free of makeup, and though Butch still thought she was hot, there was an itch and the back of his neck that she reminded him of someone.

"Hi! Nice to meet you! If you'll excuse me, I spilled something!" Belle said, her hair over her face as she waved to Bianca and rushed to the bathroom.

"Butch, can I talk to you…outside?" she asked, jerking her head to the door.

"Sure let me just—,"

"No now," she said, turning on her heels towards the door.

"Actually that's a linen closet," he said, as she opened it. She slammed it and moved in front of the real door, and turned back to him, her eyes narrowing, "coming," he said, as he hopped up and walked over to her.

He stepped into the small hallway, and suddenly felt awkward.

"What's your maid's name?"

"_That's_ what you wanted to talk about?" he said, taken aback.

"No, just a side note,"

"Belle, why?"

"What happened last night?" she asked, not answering his question.

_I could have some fun with this._

"It was wild," he lied, "_you_ were wild," he said with a wink, putting his hands behind his head as he leaned against the wall.

"Did we…" she began.

"Oh _yeah_," he lied, again, "you were like an animal," she gasped, and her cheeks began to turn pink.

"I-,"

"To be honest, I didn't know you had it in you-but _wow_,"

He could hardly contain himself, he started laughing, "You should have seen the look on your face!" her expression switched from light embarrassment to heavy embarrassment, and slight anger as he continued laughing.

"_Knock it off, Butch_. For a second there, last night, I actually thought you weren't so bad. How wrong I was,"

_Good._

"What actually happened?" She placed her hands on her hips and waited for Butch to stop laughing.

"Nothing. My temperamental brother knocked you out while he was on one of his rampages. It started to snow, and you wouldn't wake up. I had no idea where you lived so I brought you here and I slept on the floor,"

Her mouth formed a small 'o' as she walked over to him, pressing the elevator call button. When it came, she stepped in, "Thanks, I guess," she said, as they closed.

Butch didn't really understand why he messed with her about what happened last night. It wasn't necessary, but maybe it was a defence mechanism—he didn't know.

_All I know is that HIM is right. I am getting too close to her, _way_ too close. She's certainly a guy's girl, but she's not my girl. I have to remember that people like her; just don't go for people like me. That nightmare last night proves it._

* * *

><p>~Bubbles~<p>

Belle crept back into the kitchen, her smock still stained with coffee.

"I thought you said you were going to wash it off," Brick said, chewing on his toast.

"I will later! Get off my back!" she said, nervously.

"Ok…" he said, widening his eyes and looking back at the newspaper.

"Hi," an angry Boomer said, as he opened his door and slammed it behind him.

"Hey Boomer," Brick said lightly, "Your attitude seems to be rubbing off on Belle,"

"It is not! Leave me alone!" she said, snapping again.

"What's the matter?" Boomer asked, grabbing toast.

"Nothing! What is wrong with you people? Can't a girl spill something in this house without being interrogated? I'm going to my room, or is that too suspicious for you two?" She said, throwing her hands up and stomping off to her room. Shutting the door behind her, she took a breath of relief as she slid to her knees.

She felt her heart beat fast, but she was certain—that was Buttercup.

_What is she doing? Why is she Butch's new toy? What is she planning? Did she notice me? Can they tell how much we look alike?_ The thoughts raced in her head, as she brought up a shaky hand to her face.

A soft knock sent her flying, "What?" she growled.

"Um, it's just me," a muffled voice answered, "Boomer," he said, clearing his throat.

_Okay, Belle, relax._

"You can come in," she said calmly. The door opened, and Belle felt a blush come to her face as she noticed he was wearing blue loose pants and no top.

_You've seen him like this plenty times before, Belle…But not in _my_ room._ She thought.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine," she smiled.

"Just checking…you seemed pretty on edge,"

"It's fine—I'm fine," she smiled again.

"Why don't you take another break today?"

"But I took one yesterday…and besides, you guys are messing up the apartment already. I'm _fine_, quit worrying," she said, pushing past him and walking down to the kitchen.

* * *

><p>~Blossom~<p>

Beatrice paced around her room, and her cat, Cuddles, followed her every movement her tail lashing back and forth.

"Pictures of you?"

"Yep," her sister said, emphasizing the 'p', "pretty good too. I was going to ask him about it until I found other pictures of me. _Me_," she said, referring to the Buttercup she used to be.

"And what was the maid's name, you said?"

"Belle,"

"You think it's her?"

"I couldn't see her face, but it sounded like her—the same voice as the one who came to my restaurant,"

"What if she's there against her will?"

"She seemed pretty on edge," her sister agreed.

"We have to do something…But I don't see how we can get close to her with raising suspicions. We need to somehow get even closer than we already are. We need to speed up the process," she said, tapping her face.

"I think I have _just_ the thing,"

"What?" she asked, running to her sister who had a tub of ice cream next to her, staring at Beatrice's laptop.

"A job offering at RRB Corp.,"

"You're going to take it?" she asked, pulling away from the screen.

"No, I'm no good at organization,"

"Well then who? Who else do we—oh. You mean me,"

"Mhmm,"

"But I already _have_ a job!"

"What, I don't?"

"I work late nights," Beatrice said with a pout.

"Ask to go on a leave," she said, shrugging.

"But I don't _wanna,_" she whined, "I _just_ got promoted,"

"Beatrice! It's for the good of the world!" her sister said, manipulatively.

"Fine. I'll go for the interview, but I'm not guaranteeing I'll get it,"

"Something tells me you will," her sister said, a sly tone to her voice.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: DUNNNNN DUNNNNNNN DUNNNNNNNNN. What nightmare D: ? What is Bianca <em>planning<em>? _Will_ Beatrice get the job? Will the girls EVER be fully reunited :(? And what's up with Boomer? And how come there's not a lot of REDS :(**

**Easy, my faithful reviewers...your questions will be answered...**

**Please review, you make my day :D**


	30. Haunted

**Update:**

**If any of you can think of a better summary for this story, please PM me or put it in the reviews :P.**

* * *

><p><strong>Brick<strong>

_He was walking through a forest, a familiar one. Similar to the one he had his final greatest battle in, with significant differences—this one felt more like a swamp, it felt more _alive.

_"Brick…_" _a soft voice called to him. It had a deadly undertone, and some part of him knew following it could possibly bring his demise. Though he fought himself, he found that he was walking towards it. _

_"Don't do it," a voice whispered._

_"Stay,"_

_"Don't do it,"_

_"Don't do it," different voices whispered to him, pleading with him to turn back and go. But he wanted to find the source of the first voice, the one who kept calling his name with such affection. He reached a meadow—the grass was a brilliant emerald under a vivid cobalt sky, and suddenly the trees surrounding held blossoms. _

_In the middle a woman stood there, not speaking, though he knew it was her. Her hair was floating down her body, the pin straight bright crimson hair shaping her curves. She wore a tight white dress and a long, loose pink robe. She smiled to him as she beckoned him to come nearer. He obliged, and he walked towards her through the grass, each footstep turning the once vibrant grass into dark solid cracked soil._

_"Hello Brick," she spoke, her voice seemingly echoing. _

_He tried to say something but the words were not allowed to come._

_"Don't you recognize me?" she smiled, turning her head slightly sideways._

_"No," the grass started to turn jade, and the blossoms began to fall softly as the sky took on a more azure shade. _

_"Of course you don't," she brought her head back up, "not willingly," she blinked, and he noticed her eyes were a gentle cerise, twinkling with kindness. Again the sky darkened, the grass began to turn a dark green, and the blossoms on the tree were soon all on the ground._

_"I don't understand,"_

_"Who am I, Brick?" As she said that, tears began to fall from her eyes, and her once porcelain skin developed bruises and cuts, her white dress tainted with dirt and her robe ripped and grimy. Her silky red hair transformed into a light orange, dishevelled, rough mess as she stepped towards him._

_"No—but you're dead," he said, taking a step back, "I killed you," she reached her hand out, and touched his cheek, tears still flowing._

_"You killed me," she nodded, a red stain appearing in the middle of her chest, spreading rapidly. She screamed in pain as she dropped to her knees, her hand falling from his cheek. Her face was a light brown, covered in dirt, and as she fell the grass withered and the sky became black. He dropped to his knees right beside her where she lay, her blood dripping on the dead grass. _

_The words began to repeat, the voices from before whispering them, increasing in speed._

_"Did I have to die?" she whispered, her breathing heavy._

_"No, no you didn't. You didn't have to die," he said, his eyes running over her face with panic, "You don't have to die. Stay with me,"_

_"I already am," she said, closing her eyes and her final breath taking the life from her._

_"What do you mean?" he screamed, shaking her shoulders. The blossoms on the ground began to move, as though a sharp gust of wind he couldn't feel had suddenly arrived, "What do you mean? I killed you! I killed you! You can't be back!"_

* * *

><p><strong>Boomer<strong>

_"Come find me!" A girl in white giggled as she ran past him. He smiled, and picked up his footing as he followed her into the forest._

_"Slow down!" he said, light-heartedly. _

_"Come find me!" she said again, giggling. He ran after her, her blonde hair whipping through the trees, which became less and less concentrated as he followed the sound of her bare feet hitting the soil and the echo of her laughter. _

_He slowed down as the sound of her laughter disappeared. He spun in a circle, looking for her, until he heard her little giggle again. He looked up and saw her poised in a tree, the smile wide on her face. She was wearing a loose white dress and her eyes were a magnificent blue, and had a mischievous sparkle._

_"I found you,"_

_Again, she laughed, as she hopped down the tree and ran ahead of him, into a bright clearing. _

_"No fair!" he said._

_"Come find me!" she said, teasingly. _

_With a slight shake of his head, he ran after her, heading towards the bright meadow. He slowed down as he neared the edge, but the second he stepped through the tree threshold, the meadow morphed into a much darker scene. In the middle of the soil lay the girl, her dress covered in dirt and her blonde hair flowing above her head._

_As he got closer, the sky got darker and he noticed the girl was not only covered in dirt, but covered in blood._

_"Come find me," echoed through the meadow._

* * *

><p><strong>Butch<strong>

_ He found himself sitting in a beautiful meadow. The grass was an electric bottle green, and beautiful blossom trees bounded the clearing, a cobalt sky overhead. The environment calmed him, and suddenly a stunning ebony haired girl was sitting beside him, her hands behind her back in a similar fashion to him, leaning back and looking at the sky. _

_She turned to him and smiled, her eyes a wonderful jade. She was dressed in a loose green dress, and around her foot was an emerald anklet over bare feet. _

_"Hi Butch," she said with a smile._

_He knew this girl, he knew her well. He smiled at her, enjoying the warm feeling she gave him. He reached out with his hand to touch his cheek and her expression changed from tranquil to that of terror. _

_He pulled his hand away and saw he had left behind a bruise. Confused, he reached up to touch it, only to pull away once he felt blood. He touched her shoulders, and left behind a pattern of bruises on her arms. _

_With every touch he seemed to hurt her, but she didn't react, though she carried a sad look in her eyes. She was deteriorating right before his eyes by his very touch. _

_"Why is this happening?" he asked her, but she shook her head sorrowfully, taking his hand and putting it to her stomach, pressing down. He tried to pull away his hand as the blood began to sprout through the spaces between his fingers._

_"This is what's supposed to happen," she said with a groan._

_"I don't want it to," he protested, and to his surprise she let go of his hand, but it was evident the damage was done. The grass turned a charred black and the trees fell to dust, the sky turning black too, rejecting him. He stood there, staring, as her breathing picked up pace before slowing down, and ending finally._

This was when Butch realized he was dreaming, the same dream he had every so often, and he waited there staring at her body, for the dream to end.

_"I'm not dead," she said, opening her eyes, causing him to step back in shock._

_"But I killed you!" he objected, "I saw you die! You're dead!"_

_"I won't ever die by your hand," she said weakly. _

_"But you did! I killed you!" he screamed. _

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: Just a lil' tidbit for you on possibly why the boys haven't recognized the girls yet. I won't go into <em>full<em> detail, or what I personally think, because I want each of you to look at their nightmares, and have your own views on why each brother doesn't recognize the girls. I want you guys to take what you will from this, and maybe leave this chapter going 'Ohh, so THAT'S why,****or 'That explains why '' '' doesn't really recognize " " ' **

**IMO, each boy has their own reason, but you guys could see it as they all have the same :). That's the FUN part about not telling you. **

**After all though, it _has_ been ten years since the girls have "died", and the only reason the girls know what they still look like (though I would imagine they would somewhat recognize them anyways) is because RRB is everywhere now, whereas the girls have kept on the DL. A lot can change in ten years, often times after seeing someone you haven't seen in a while you hear "I hardly recognized you" because a person can change in ten years. But I doubt you forget what the person you killed/killed you looks like, even after a hundred years, without a deeper reason. So, again, read into their nightmares however you please and possibly post your theories or your analyzations in the reviews :).**


	31. Interview

~Buttercup~

Bianca fixed her blonde curly wig as she made her way into the lobby of RRB Corp.

"Can I help you?" The lady at the desk asked.

"Hi there," she spoke, her southern accent thick, "I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news," she said, handing her a pink envelope.

The woman looked at it with bewilderment, as she opened it. Bianca waited patiently for the woman to read the letter, before she started sobbing.

"I know, but times are tough, and you're just not good enough. You're to leave immediately, and take only the most personal things,"

~Blossom~

Beatrice walked in through the electronic doors, her Merona Marylnn Suede Mary Jane pumps clicking through the marble floor.

She walked towards the lobby desk, where a familiar looking blonde sat, staring at her.

"Have you taken care of business?" she whispered.

"Please, Beatrice, who are you talking to? Here's your guest pass, it's the ninety-ninth floor," she said, handing her a white ID card, with the words GUEST in block letters next to a barcode.

…

She walked into the lobby, smiling politely as she made her way down the office, turning left into a hallway, and arriving at three doors.

_Well that's helpful._ She thought sarcastically, looking at the signs on the doors:

Mr. Jojo

Mr. Jojo

Mr. Jojo.

She took a guess and knocked on the door to her right, deciding that if it wasn't her future employer's room, she'd flush, apologize, and try again.

Fortunately, it was.

"Finally someone shows up," he said angrily, and Beatrice could already tell she'd have problems with him.

"People haven't been showing up?" she asked innocently.

"I had twenty interviews lined up today, nineteen of them have yet to show up, not so much as a call," he said, not bothering to look at her as he sat down on his desk. She took that as her cue and walked over to one of the two seats adjacent to his.

"Beatrice Trigbee," she smiled, offering her hand to him, to which he simply stared at.

"Boomer," he said.

"I know," she said brightly, and he rolled his eyes.

"Why don't we get started?" he said, his tone monotone.

_Okay. I've googled this—where do you see yourself in five years, ten years. Why do you want to work for this company, all that stuff._

She took a deep breath, she had never been to a _real_ interview.

"What do you know about the company?" he asked, still not looking at her.

"Rowdy Ruff Boys Corporation, or as it is known lovingly by most people—RRB Corp., has been around for roughly ten years and its main obligation is to bring comfort to everyone in the world. By coming up with innovative new ideas, keeping crime off the streets, and weeding out corrupt companies, RRB Corp., does just that," she said, taking in air when she finished. She had memorized the summary last night.

"Right…Why do you want to work for this company?" he sounded extremely disinterested in the conversation and she felt her anger rise with being ignored.

"I would like to work for RRB Corp., because I think it's great what you're trying to do to the world and I would like to be a part of that,"

"You realize you're applying to be my assistant, right?"

"Yes…?"

He sighed, "What skills could you bring to this company?"

"Well, I'm completely a people person, I have excellent organization skills, I'm a team player, I work hard and am very dedicated, I'm a problem solver, and I could bring a young new perspective on old issues,"

"It says here you're twenty-three," he said, finally looking up at her.

"That's correct," she said with a brief nod.

"I'm twenty-three,"

"Yes…"

"So you wouldn't be bringing a new _young_ point of view, because you're the same age as me," he stated simply.

_That's not what I meant._

"Next question," she said impudently.

"Look, we could go through the regularities of an interview, but considering the fact that _nineteen_ other candidates haven't showed up, I'd say you have the job. I'm not a patient person, so congratulations. You start tomorrow at nine am sharp until five pm. Expect to stay overtime with no extra pay, and receive calls off duty," he said seriously.

"O-okay. I'll see you tomorrow then," she said, getting up as she ironed down her skirt and brushed out the wrinkles of her blouse.

"Yep…you can leave now," he said, nodding.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Sorry if it's a bit of a disappointment-Blossom will be working for <em>Boomer, <em>not Brick-although she will be interacting with him plenty. If you guys think I'm losing my touch as the chapters go on, please feel free to say so because I see any criticism as constructive criticism...weirdly enough. **

**CrissCross-thank you so much, I love that you reviewed :)**

**Cookie Monster- I'm glad you like it!**

**IloveBlues- haha I'll put in more blues too.**

**Exs and Ohs- he gets to live another day. and i know, but he had to go I.I LOOOL.**

**Please review, you make my day :D**


	32. Toothache

~Bubbles~

When Brick and Butch left for work, Boomer assumed to already have left, Belle went to go take a long bath. The condo was already relatively clean, and she wanted to slightly pamper herself.

She submerged herself under the water and cleared her thoughts, enjoying the feeling of the warm water engulf her weary head. Belle didn't normally have time for baths—all she usually did was take a quick shower. Even on her off days, she was always bustling somewhere.

Today, she had never felt more worn-out or more deserving of a long bath. When working for the Furds, she almost didn't have _time_ to be tired—there was no off button, the only thing she knew was _go._ The longer she worked for her past enemies, the more she realized how exhausted she was all the time. She went through the regularities of a bath, and when she was done she walked over to her room in a white towel, and another white towel around her head. She moisturized and changed into black yoga pants and a blue tank top, tying her damp hair back in a braid.

_I'm going to take the rest of the day off._ She thought.

Belle walked into the living room, and sat on the couch. When as she was about to turn on the television, the door to Boomer's room opened and slammed loudly.

She felt slightly embarrassed to be so underdressed, but then she remembered that he was Boomer and she was his maid.

"It's noon," she said simply.

"Yeah? So?" He said defensively, as he walked over to the fridge, taking out a can of pop. He took a sip and screamed as he threw it through the open window.

"Everything okay?" she asked carefully.

"I'm fine! I'm not going into work today! I have an assistant you know, she can do my job!"

The way he was speaking sent a chill down her spine; something had made him _very_ angry. She sighed lightly and walked over to him, keeping a safe distance behind the island counter. He was breathing heavily, and she noticed his hand was holding the right side of his jaw.

"Does your tooth hurt?" she asked jovially.

"No! What's it to you?"

"Are you afraid of the dentist, Boomer?"

"I'm not afraid of _nothing._ If anything he's afraid of me," he declared defiantly.

She sat down on the middle bar stool and patted the chair beside her, "Come here, let me see," she said. He looked at her hesitantly, but eventually came and sat down, "open your mouth,"

"No,"

"I won't touch; I just want to look, okay? Promise," she said. He removed his hand slowly and opened his mouth, his eyes never once leaving hers. She scooted closer to him carefully, and lowered his jaw.

"Your tooth is broken," she said, surprised. She expected a cavity or a loose filling.

"Am I going to die?" he asked, light-heartedly. Though his eyes certainly showed the smallest bit of fear.

"You're not going to die," she smiled, "you'll probably have to go to the dentist though," she tsked playfully, "what did you do to break your tooth?"

"None of your business," he said, suddenly cruel, getting up and leaving her.

_Never forget who he is, Belle. Never forget what he did to a past you. And never forget what he is to you now—your boss, you are his employee. _

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Feel free to tell me if I'm getting sloppy 0.0 And poor Belle :(...poor Bubbles! Still not reunited! I am just a cruel, cruel author. This was a small, kind of fluffy chapter because I haven't really updated today (I just got home and instead of going to bed I wrote this up! you guys are welcome :)! )<strong>

**Fairytale Perception- here's an update :$ :P**

**Guess what? Brick and Blossom in da next chapter-and its gon' be a _long_ one too.**

**Update:**

**I edited this chapter a bit...I did after all write the first time around at three in the morning**


	33. Lunch

~Blossom~

Beatrice's phone began to ring as she was making her way into the office.

"This is Beatrice," she said professionally.

"_Boomer_,"

She panicked slightly when she realized it was Boomer, but relaxed because she _knew_ she wasn't late.

"What do you need?" she asked.

"_Um…_" the other line groaned, "_I'm not coming in to work today,_"

"But it's my first day!" the red head said with protest.

"_Boo-hoo_," he mocked, "_You can handle it, that's why I hired you,_"

"You hired me because nobody else showed up,"

"_…Yeah but you—I don't know you seemed good. Could you just do my job for me today? I don't feel well,_" her boss began to whine.

"Fine. Feel better," she told him, without any emotion at all.

"_Gee, thanks_" he responded, just as sarcastically.

She hung up the phone and made her way to his office, deciding that his sickness was _her_ perfect opportunity to do some digging. His door was already open and she could see why—the big, red file on his desk reading `CONFIDENTIAL` seemed to have been _just_ placed there.

This was going to be easy. She put down her purse by the door and sat down at the desk, which was too messy for her liking. She groaned at the sight, her neat freak tendencies itching at her to clean up. It was, after all, her job to keep his office nice and tidy.

_Focus._

She took a deep breath, and slowly lowered her hand to the file, almost afraid of what she was going to find.

_A list of people they've killed? Will kill? A DNA test linking me to Blossom? Their plan to make robots to destroy half the world? The people they've tortured?_

Her hand shook, "_Beatrice?_" a voice with total disbelief called, sounding as though they were choking. In a flash she put her hand down and shot her head up, not surprised at the figure standing in the door way, holding two cups of coffee.

"Hi Brick," she smiled, looking up slightly at him, "I sort of work here now,"

He came in and sat down in front of her, "I can see that,"

Something about him being in a suit (instead of his typical white tee shirt and jeans) made him have an air of authority that she could feel from across the desk. He seemed more confident, smarter—sort of like the Brick she once knew.

"It's my first day and my boss called in sick," she pouted, "I don't even know what I'm supposed to do,"

Something flashed in his eyes so suddenly, that if she wasn't paying attention, she wouldn't have noticed, "I'll take care of what he was supposed to do today. You just answer phones and make appointments," he smiled stiffly.

"You'll take his work? But I'll feel bad," she said honestly.

"Yeah, don't worry about it. I'll just take it out on him," he said nonchalantly, taking a small sip of his coffee, "What happened to your old job?"

"Oh…I took a leave. My doctor suggested it, because of my, you know, headaches," she scratched the back of her neck awkwardly.

He nodded, "That's too bad, you were really good,"

"Oh thanks, but it's not for forever," she said with a soft blush.

Part of her wanted him to leave—the part that was supposed to go sifting through Boomer's belongings, to find out just what they were plotting—and part of her (a small part) wanted him to stay.

Her heart always beats faster around him—out of fear, or something else she wasn't ready to admit.

~flashback~

**_Blossom was walking home from the library, not in the mood for flying when a red light flashed right beside her, "Hey Blossom,"_**

**_"Brick," she acknowledged. _**

**_"What'chya doing?"_**

**_"Walking,"_**

**_"Cool,"_**

**_"Do you need anything?" She stopped and turned to look at him, his head was down—still under his baseball hat and his hands were in his pockets._**

**_"Why do we always have to fight?" she was taken slightly aback—she didn't expect him to say that._**

**_"Because you keep doing bad things," Blossom said, as if his question had a textbook answer._**

**_"Right," he flew away shortly after._**

**_Two days later, they had their final fight._**

~End~

He stood up, "We should get some lunch,"

"Yeah sure, come get me at lunch time," she said with a smile. He picked up the folder in front of her, and in a flash he was gone. She stared at the door with disappointment.

_Guess I might as well do work now._

As if on cue, the phone rang, "Boomer Jojo's office, this is his secretary, how can I help you?"

"_It's Princess_," the other line whined, "_Where's my Boomie? You know we're getting _married_ right?_"

"I was not aware, no. Mr. Jojo is at home sick, can I take a message?"

"_My Boomie's_ sick?_ Poor baby! We're getting married, you know,_"

Beatrice cringed, "Are you going to leave a message?"

"_Of course I'm going to leave a message!_"

…

Blossom sighed lightly as she remembered how problematic Princess was, "_We're getting married, you know!_"

A soft knock interrupted her frustration as she looked up to see Brick, with a smirk on his face, "Princess?" he mouthed. She nodded in response.

"Yes, I-,"

"_Do you have _any_ idea how _wealthy_ my father is?"_

"No, do tell," she said sarcastically.

Brick sighed as he walked over, taking the phone from Beatrice. "Princess, quit calling. We're seeing you tomorrow," and with that he hung up, "Lunch?"

"I'd _love_ to," she said, getting up and straightening her skirt.

…

Beatrice laughed loudly, "Like, ohmygawd, I'm so wealthy!" she was mimicking Princess.

Brick jerked his head, attempting to look as though he was flipping hair, "I can _buy_ beauty,"

"Never do that again," she said, laughing again.

"What, this?" he jerked his head again, "But my hair is so luscious!"

"You look like you have a twitch," she smirked.

He put his hand to his heart and gasped, "Are you _embarrassed_ by me?"

Beatrice covered her face with her hands, "Very much so,"

"I am _so_ telling my daddy! You'll never work in this town again!"

She burst out in laughter, "You're imitation is _too _spot on. You're sure you aren't actually Princess?"

"I promise I'm not," he said sincerely.

"So Boomer really likes her?" she took a bite out of her sandwich, her eyes still on Brick.

"Nah, poor kid. I can't really feel sorry for him—it was _me_ in his shoes a few years ago,"

"Why doesn't he just say he doesn't like her?"

"It won't discourage her," he shrugged.

"But _why_ does he have to marry her?"

"We don't really get to choose. It's up to Him and Mojo,"

_Those six words could never have sounded more tragic._ Beatrice thought, suddenly and against her will. _Is this me feeling _sorry_ for _Brick_?_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Not updating for two days felt weird...I was away D: [This was actually supposed to be posted yesterday around this time, however my internet crashed]<strong>

**Hope this chapter is everything you've _ever_ dreamed of. Ever.**

**Wonder Blossom-I was _worried_ people might think that-I sort of wanted their reunion to seem more business like in the hospital, when there are plenty of eyes on them. Thanks for liking my story :)**

**bubblynikki0914- thank you so much!**

**Bebeba- thanks! I'm glad you think so :)**


	34. The Beach

**Update:**

**I meant to post this before, but a special thanks to _1000GreenSun_ for my new summary :)!**

* * *

><p>~Buttercup~<p>

Summer time was Bianca's least favourite season. The feeling of the sun beating down her back, making her sweat and the nakedness of the fashions was never something she could get used to.

In all honesty, she wasn't entirely confident in her body—something she felt she should have grown out of a long time ago. It was different when she would exercise, she would always feel at her highest. Walking around wearing close to nothing (or risk heatstroke) made her feel extremely self conscious—even though she was certain nobody looked at her twice.

Thankfully, she was dressed for work, wearing black pants and a white tee shirt—even though the dress code simply said 'black pants, white top'.

"Bianca," she froze in her footsteps and waited for him to come into her line of vision.

"Must you always harass me on my way to work?" she said lightly. They hadn't gone on another date since their first one in December, though she still taught him swimming every other Saturday. She had warmed up to him slightly—now that she was sure he had no idea who she _really_ was.

"Maybe," he grinned at her.

"Don't you have a job?"

"They'll be _fine_," he said confidently, waving his hand.

"Well I should be getting to my job," she started to walk around him, only to have him rush in front of her again.

"Wait,"

"What?"

"Instead of at the pool tomorrow, why don't we go to the beach?"

_Beach. Swimsuit. In front of everyone._

"No," she said, and she continued walking.

True to his nature, he interrupted her path once more, "Please?"

"No,"

That was how it continued, throughout the day; he would appear in the strangest places, saying simply that.

"Bianca, table three needs refills," Madame DeFranc called through the kitchen.

"Okay Madame," Bianca picked up the drinks and turned to walk to table three, only to be interrupted by a persistent rowdy ruff boy.

"Please?"

"No,"

…

"There's someone sitting in your section, B,"

"Got it,"

She walked over to her section, pulling her notepad out.

"You ready to order?" she asked, smiling.

"Yeah, I think I'll have…" he began, lowering his menu. She cringed, "Please?"

"No. Get out if you're not going to order anything,"

…

"Ceaser salad with grilled chicken," Bianca called into the kitchen

"Le right away!" a voice responded that was more masculine than normal. She paused, confused, and decided to check on what was going on.

"Madame?" she called out carefully, walking towards the security screen.

A green light filled the room suddenly, causing Bianca to scream and step back.

She quickly changed expressions, "Please?"

"No! How did you get in here? Get out!"

…

"Bianca can you take out the garbage?" Katie, who was supposed to take out the garbage, asked her.

"Sure," she said kindly, "Why not?" She went into the kitchen and picked up the garbage bags, heading through the back door to the alley way where the dumpster was. She opened the dumpster and put the bags in and turned around to head back in.

Out of nowhere, he was leaning beside the back door. "Please?"

"No," she said, walking past him.

…

"Thanks for driving me home again, Madame,"

"Not a problem, my dear," Bianca smiled as Madame drove off, "Oh God," she said, her hand rushing to her heart in surprise at seeing Butch there.

"Please?"

"No! Leave me alone,"

"Come on, please?"

"No, quit asking,"

"_Please_?" he whined.

"Fine," she responded, growling.

He grinned and flew up, shouting, "It worked! See you tomorrow,"

_Great. That's just great._

…

_You look great!_ Beatrice's words echoed in Bianca's head, as she sat on the sand underneath an umbrella, wearing a loose black beach dress overtop her green bikini. She had wanted to wear her regular green swimsuit, but Beatrice had insisted on a bikini.

_I hate bikinis. And he's late. Again._

She lied back on her towel, and sighed as she waited for him to _finally_ show up.

"You ready?"

"Finally," she grumbled, getting up, and stripping out of her black dress into her bikini—slightly reluctantly.

"…wow," he whispered.

Immediately, Bianca found herself fighting the urge to throw the black dress back on. Instead, she pretended he didn't say anything, "So are you going to brave the waters without your water wings?"

"Obviously. People are staring,"

"Wouldn't want them thinking you're a big baby?" she teased, lightly pushing him as they walked towards the water.

"Plenty of people are afraid of water," he said defensively, taking a deep breath before walking into the waves, "promise you won't let me drown?"

She rolled her eyes, "Promise,"

…

"You're doing a lot better, Butch," she remarked honestly.

"I am?" he said, slightly suspicious as he treaded in the water beside her—his movements slightly jerky whereas hers were completely fluid.

"Yeah," she smiled, "Lesson's over though," she dived under and swam to shore, popping up once she got closer to walk out. She turned and to her surprise, Butch wasn't that far behind.

"Wait," he said, running forwards in the water, "Let's hang around for a bit,"

"No," she shook her head, "I burn _really_ easily,"

"That's something I'd like to see," he smirked, "Come on, please?"

"Fine, I'll stay," she said, worried he wouldn't leave her alone unless she agreed.

"You up for some beach volleyball?" he asked.

"You up for losing?" she smirked.

…

They had been walking alongside the shore for at least an hour, the sun lowering in the sky and the beach goers dwindling. The two had lost track of time, and hadn't really noticed. Or maybe they had, and neither party cared.

She could see his hand twitching lightly at his side, and she knew what he wanted.

_Just go for it._

Bianca reached over and grabbed his hand, and he eagerly wrapped his fingers through hers, and yanked her closer.

The two raven haired friends had been walking in silence for awhile, the conversation between them died over half an hour ago, but that really didn't matter, the quiet didn't make a difference.

They finally had looped back around to where they had left their things, and wordlessly decided that together they would watch the sun go down.

Bianca always felt an inner peace when watching the sunset, something she never really was able to explain to others. It's as if the colors and intensity of the light is just enough to calm her. The sun is like a great big romantic, inspirational fire in the sky. It would be as if a powerful symphony was quieting down, becoming more emotional and beautiful as it dies down.

Its rays seem friendly. They remind her of an old friend, waving good bye to her, she knows they are leaving but she is filled with the confidence that she will see them again.

"You're pretty awesome," he said, the first words between them since they turned back around.

She looked at him and smiled teasingly, "How poetic,"

"No, I mean it. I've never met a girl like you before,"

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"It's good. In fact, it's great. I dunno. You're just nice to be around," he said, almost absentmindedly, looking at the sun rather than at her.

She felt a slight pink come up to her cheeks, and did her best to keep it down, not sure if he was being serious or not.

"Thanks," she whispered, too quiet for him to hear.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: I enjoy writing Butch and Buttercup :D.<strong>

**Josephine Dark- Thank you so much! and hehe i'm glad you liked it!**

**MissRandomGal- Thank you hehe :)**

**Sweetheart- Aww that's so sweet, thank you!**

**skye96- Thanks so much for your continued reviews! And hehe sorry I'll update faster :) **


	35. Resentment

**Boomer.**

"Ah!" the body screamed as Butch threw it back, rushing forwards in a green flash, raising his hand menacingly.

"That's enough," his brother, Brick, who despite his fiery red hair had a cool head said, grabbing Butch's hand.

"What do you mean?" Butch whined, pulling his fist out of his brother's hold, "I was just getting started!"

"I said, _that's enough._ Stand down," he repeated, sterner than the last time.

"You're such a party pooper," Butch whined.

With that, the forest surrounding them began to glitch, and before they knew it, the two boys, and Boomer were back in the simulation room.

A door appeared in the now red room, and in stepped through Him, and Boomer repressed a chill that went down his back.

"You always take the fun out of things!" Butch yelled, pushing his brother.

"**_That's enough, Butch_**," Him said, his eyes narrowing at the raven haired boy, "_And good call, Brick,"_

"Thank you sir,"

"**_As for you Boomer,_**" he said, turning around to stare at the third brother, "_your performance was less than satisfactory. It seems you were unfocused—again._"

"I-," Boomer began.

"_I wonder why that is,_" Him said, circling Boomer menacingly. Suddenly, a screen appeared on the wall behind the brothers, showing a very familiar blonde maid, tidying up the house, "**_Would she have anything to do with it?_**"

"No, she's just a maid," Boomer stammered. Him grabbed Boomer tightly around his jaw, Him's claw digging into his skin tightly as he lifted Boomer up.

"_I should _hope_ so. Because I am very close to total domination, all I need is Morbucks, whose daughter is _infatuated_ with you. If she finds out about your little **crush** I will lose Morbucks, and you will lose your **life.** Do I make myself _clear_?"_

"Yes sir,"

"_Excellent. You may leave now,"_ Him exited through the same door he came through, and Boomer's brothers rushed to his side, helping him up.

…

"I think he broke my tooth," Boomer said, his hand rubbing the right side of his face.

"At least the red claw marks healed," Brick suggested.

One look told Brick his helpful suggestion was far from helpful.

"Look, you'll stop getting beat up if you stop acting so warm and fuzzy around Belle,"

"How come he stopped harassing you two about _your_ little flings?"

"Because _we're_ not the ones who are supposed to be marrying Princess," Butch responded.

"Yeesh. I was almost down the same road. I feel for you, bro," Brick said sympathetically, but all it did was make Boomer's resentment towards Him grow.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: If y'all were wonderin' why Boomer's tooth broke. Even if ya weren't, it's a plot advancement and I'm posting it anyways.<strong>

**I'm almost finished writing it (don't worry, I haven't uploaded all the parts yet, merely almost finished typing the parts up). It's very exciting. I normally abandon writing projects halfway through. As usual, your reviews are wonderful and I really don't care if you review over and over again-I _literally_ eat them up. Literally. **

**Hope this chapter makes all your dreams come true. All of them.**


	36. Broken

~Blossom~

Working for Boomer was hell. He was always crabby, he had no idea what he was supposed to do, and according to him, everything she did was wrong.

_As if he would know!_

"Beatrice!" He whined, calling her into his office for the tenth time—and it wasn't even lunch time yet. She put both hands down on her desk and clicked into his office.

"What's the point," she began, "Of me having an intercom if you're just going to yell at me to come in every five minutes?"

"Knock it off,"

"Knock what off?"

"The talking—come over here, I did something to my computer,"

She sighed and walked over, "What's the problem?"

"It's not turning on," he whined.

She leaned over to look at the screen and her face went flat, "Maybe," she began sarcastically, "because you threw your stapler through the screen,"

"It's not my fault! It was _really_ slow!"

She rolled her eyes, "Just come use my laptop. I'd bring it over here for you, but to be quite frank I don't trust you with it,"

…

"This is boring. Your computer is boring," he said, his eyes glued to the screen.

"How is it any different from yours?" She asked him, looking up from her paperwork.

"Mine is not boring," he said.

…

"Stop humming," she growled.

"I don't wanna," he responded, continuing to hum "Sweet Clementine".

…

Beatrice was ready to pull her hair out—not only was he hot-headed, but he was also extremely annoying when bored.

"You're irritating," she said, looking at him with an amused face.

"Enough to make you want to quit?" he asked, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

_Nice try._

"Sorry, but nope. You're stuck with me,"

"I _could_ fire you," he said, shrugging.

"You wouldn't do that," she challenged.

"According to what?" he shot back.

She nudged him playfully, "You like me,"

He paused, before smiling, "Maybe just a little,"

She stood up from her desk, "I'm going to lunch—_try_ not to destroy my laptop,"

"No promises," he said playfully.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Boomer and Blossom is actually quite difficult to write-but I wrote it anyway. Because I felt like it, if you don't like it you can sue me! (please don't actually sue, I don't have an actual lawyer).<strong>

**I figured a light chapter was needed. As if you _didn't_ know, she is going to lunch with Brick-Ou lala. I won't be writing it up though, sorry :/. Just assume it's all cute and whatnot. **

**AwesomeNinjaTaco- Thank you so much! It means a lot when you go into detail about what you like about my story, feel free to ramble ;).**

**I hope this chapter makes your wildest dreams come true. Yes, even that one. **


	37. Anger

~Bubbles~

She stood in the kitchen, her back straight and her face neutral as Princess clicked around the apartment, judging every last part.

"This _won't_ do! This whole condo is disgusting! Who designed it, a monkey?"

_Boomer likes _her_?_ Belle thought, incredulous. She looked over to him; he was standing by the window, a glass of scotch in his hand, swirling dangerously. He looked good, but he looked so out of character in a tuxedo—so did Brick and Butch for that matter.

He turned around and took a sip, his eyes emotionless. Princess Morbucks walked up to him and patted his cheek playfully.

"I'll live I suppose. Especially since I'm going to be marrying _such_ a cutie!" She ruffled his already shaggy hair, turning around and walking towards Belle in the kitchen. Belle tried not to smirk as Boomer angrily shook his hair back to normal.

"Oh my gawd," her red curly hair bounced as she ran her finger across the kitchen counter, bringing it up to her face and rubbing the 'dirt' between her forefinger and thumb, "you people call this clean? Ew,"

"It's nice to meet you Princess, I'm Belle," Princess froze, and extended her hands at her sides, her hands open as she froze.

"Is the _help_ talking to me? Boys!" she screamed, and immediately the boys jumped to attention, "Doesn't _she_ know better than to talk to _me?_ I'm _Princess,_"

They didn't say anything, and Belle felt suddenly embarrassed. Boomer looked less than amused, and Brick and Butch offered her sympathetic glances.

"Look," Princess continued, "I don't see why I had to come _here_," something about her voice was so irritating, "why couldn't we have done this in an office? Where we _won't_ be bombarded by lesser intelligence,"

_She's just insecure, Belle, don't get mad._ Belle thought, her hands twitching slightly.

"You wanted to see the place," Boomer responded, bored, as the boys sat back down on the couch.

"Oh, right," she grumbled, "Well it's disgusting, and you can expect that you'll be buying _us_ a new place to live after the wedding," she waved her hand, lifting her head up, revolted.

She walked towards him and placed her hands on his chest, rising up in her peep-toe stilettos to kiss him on the lips. He let her do it, though the face he made was dejected, keeping his eyes open.

"Bye Boomie!" she said, turning on her heels and walking out, slamming the door behind her.

Belle sighed and walked passed him, moving to set up the magazines Princess had thrown around in her rampage. All of a sudden, she heard Boomer scream—it was more of a growl—and pick up the couch with his brothers on it, throwing it out of the windows, the shards flying. Belle instinctively lifted her hands to cover her face, and instead got a few shards stuck in her arm.

"Damn it, Boomer!" his brothers called, their voices trailing as the couch fell down. Belle took a deep sigh.

* * *

><p><strong>Boomer<strong>

_This is it._ He thought. _This is when she starts screaming, and runs out. _He braced himself—he had freaked out in front of her before, but never this badly. It wasn't as though he did it on purpose—Princess Morbucks literally drove him mad. He looked at her expectantly.

Instead, she sighed, and carefully picked out the now bloody shards out of her arm, wincing slightly. Her reaction wasn't as loud as he had originally expected. She looked at him, her eyes filled with something—disappointment?—as she walked passed him, to her room.

_Probably to pack up her things._

He sat down on the glass filled floor and buried his face in his hands, frustrated with himself. He heard the sound of her walking back and he looked up—her arm was bandaged with small stains of blood scattered over it. He cringed.

"Why do you get angry so easily?" she asked him, sitting down cross-legged.

"Huh?"

_Why isn't she gone yet?_

"Why are you so easily angered?" she repeated.

"I dunno. I've been like that for a while," he shrugged.

"Whenever I'm upset," she began, scooting closer to him, "I always try to look at it from a realistic point of view—I put myself in an unbiased point of view,"

"Not gonna happen,"

"Okay…how about breathing?"

"What about it?"

"Close your eyes," he reluctantly did so, "take a deep breath," again, he did as she asked. They did this for about five seconds, "and release it, _slowly_," she added.

They repeated this three times.

"There," she said, opening her eyes, and smiling at him, "don't you feel better?"

"No," he responded grumpily. She raised an eyebrow, "Maybe," the eyebrow turned into two disbelieving eyebrows, "Okay fine," he revealed.

"Why are you marrying Princess if you don't like her?" she blurted, covering her mouth quickly after. He smirked at her curiosity.

"You make it seem like I have a choice,"

"Well don't you?"

"It's not really that simple,"

"Are you saying I'm stupid?"

"No, I'm saying it's complicated,"

"Try me," she said, crossing her arms. Boomer sighed and explained to her the politics and responsibilities of being a villain under control of worse villains. She nodded throughout the whole explanation, as though she understood every last word.

"I'm so sorry Boomer," she said with a sad shake of her head, "I'm always going to be here, if you need me,"

"Thanks," and for some reason, what she said, made him feel immensely relieved, "Sorry about your arm,"

"Oh this? It's nothing," she said, smiling her typical jovial smile. As if on cue, a couch came floating back through the window, being pulled in by two angry looking men.

"Damn it Boome-," they started, but stopped once they saw the serene look on his face.

"Sorry, guys," he said simply, picking the couch up and moving it back into place, "don't worry about it Belle, I'll sweep up," he said, going to get her broom from the washroom. As he walked away, he heard his brothers badger Belle with things like 'what did you do?' 'teach me your ways, master' and Boomer smirked to himself. He wouldn't be immediately better, no, but he was well on his way with Belle right by his side.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: It's been brought to my attention that my little author's note at the end pulls you away from the intenseness (is that a word? it is now) of the chapter. Sorry...<strong>

**I debated whether or not to stop writing these, but I like writing them...so...yeah.**

**xCocoAngelx- thank youu! And :D**


	38. Hard To Say

~Buttercup~

August came and went without a word from Butch. She first had a hint he was avoiding her when she called him the day after they went to the beach together. She wasn't calling to say anything sappy—just to yell at him for dragging her to the beach where she got a sunburn. He didn't answer, and he didn't return her call.

It continued that way through July, and August. He didn't even have the nerve to call her and cancel his lesson—she waited all throughout the remainder of June at the pool, and for the first two weeks of July before she simply stopped showing up, deciding that he would be sure to speak up if she wasn't at a lesson.

He didn't.

She tried her best not to feel snubbed—this was, after all, what she wanted, right? He was her enemy and it made her life easier if he just left her alone. But it still bothered her. She would think about him, all the time, wondering what she did to upset him, or if this was one of his tactics.

"Vat is ze matter, Bianca? You 'ave been upset all summere," Madame DeFranc said one night, while they were closing up.

"She just doesn't like summertime, the psycho!" Eric called light-heartedly from the table he was wiping.

"You don't like summer? What's wrong with you?" Katie teased playfully.

"Ah, no, it is not zat. I am aware zat Bianca zoes not like summere. Zis is different,"

"It's nothing, really. Just feeling a little under the weather,"

"Hmm…why zon't you take tomorrow off zen? It 'as been awhile since you last took a break," Katie and Eric voiced their agreement.

Bianca looked at her three coworkers.

_I _could_ use just one day off…_

Reluctantly, while doing a slow twist in her spot, Bianca agreed.

When it was time to leave, Bianca opted to walk home instead of receiving her usual ride from Madame DeFranc, preferring to risk the danger of walking home than to have to explain to Madame the real reason she was upset.

"Bianca," a tentative voice called out, one she had grown to recognize immediately. She debated turning around before she actually did.

Her lips formed a thin line as he walked towards her, his hands in his pocket and his shoulders hunched over.

"Nice of you to grace me with your presence," She crossed her arms across her chest, refusing to show emotion.

He shakes his raven hair and Bianca noticed a faint, new scar above his eye and nasty ones by his ear and neck. They were in the process of healing, but she could still tell whatever he did—it was gruesome.

She felt herself freeze up at the thought, and he quickly averted his eyes, "Listen-,"

"What is it this time?" she interjected rudely, causing him to switch his gaze on her, his green eyes intense, making her almost shrink back.

"Come with me,"

"With you? Where?"

He didn't answer her, merely held out his hand as his response. She was confused, but she took his hand anyway and he roughly pulled her in, their feet suddenly moving off the ground.

"You wanted me to come with you on the roof of a skyscraper…" she said slowly, once they had arrived.

Again, he didn't reply, merely sat down on the edge of the roof, and patted to the spot beside him.

"Contrary to popular belief, Butch, I _can't_ fly, and if I fall, I _will_ die," she said, her voice wavering.

She could feel his smirk, "Yes, because if you fall I will just look at you and go 'oh, such a shame,'"

_He has a point._

She walked over to him and sat over the ledge, her feet hanging precariously over the edge. She let out a shuddering sigh and decided looking down was not the best thing.

_Since when was I afraid of heights?_

"Well?" she asked, after a few moments of silence. Instead of responding her, which he seemed to have a habit of _not_ doing, he reached to the left of him and put down two bottles of red wine, and two glasses.

"Wine?" he asked, pouring himself a glass. She could feel her irritation bubbling, her mind running through the possibilities.

_He's going to kill me. This is why he brought me up here…he knows. Or what if he's trying to get me drunk so he can sleep with me? The pig. Or what if…Whatever it is, don't raise suspicion by refusing. Just don't say anything you'll regret, and don't do anything you'll regret._

"Earth to Bianca? Quit over analyzing,"

Bianca took the glass of wine and drank, staring out into the night sky as the hours climbed, grateful she didn't have to go to work the next day.

"What if I fall?" she slurred, after one too many glasses. She was always a lightweight.

"I'll catch you," he said, looking at her from the corner of his eyes, drinking his wine slowly.

"What if you're not quick enough?"

"I will be," he reassured her, scooting closer, to which she didn't object to.

"What do you want from me?" she looked at him, her eyes narrowing as she sipped at her wine.

"I just need to feel something real for right now,"

_The pig! He wants to have sex with me!_

"And I don't mean sex, if that's what you're thinking," he said, as though he could read her mind. She lifted a hand up to his neck slowly, and ran her finger across a deep scar that was in the process of healing.

"What did you do? Fall into a knife?"

He laughed softly, ignoring her question. He carefully placed his arm around her, and in her drunken haze, she didn't mind.

"I used to know this girl," he began, "she reminds me of you sometimes,"

"Here I thought I was one of a kind," she said sarcastically.

He pretended he didn't hear, and continued talking, "she was just like me,"

"A womanizer?"

"Quit interrupting," he looked at her out of the corner of his eyes, they were sparkling with amusement, "we were on different sides of the spectrum. She was my other half, yet we were always clashing with each other,"

"What happened to her?" Bianca asked, though she already knew the answer.

"She left,"

Bianca knew that was a lie—because she knew he was talking about _her_ or rather, Buttercup—but she didn't press, how could she explain she knew it was a lie? She remained quiet as she realized—though she was drunk—this was golden, and he might be seconds away from revealing what they were planning.

"I miss her," he said instead.  
>...<p>

"Why do you keep ignoring me?" she asked softly, after the two had merely just been staring out into the sky for a good ten minutes.

"I don't have the answers you want to hear," he answered, after some thought.

"No, but why did you ignore me for months?"

"I'll tell you later,"

"No," she pouted, pushing him slightly, "Now,"

"I had to run some errands…" he stiffened, "for my father," the way he said father made the word sound as though he was describing an enemy, rather than the actual meaning of the word.

"You could have told me,"

"I didn't get to,"

"You could have made the effort," she hiccupped.

"I didn't have a choice,"

"Liar. You always have a choice," she protested.

"No. I don't get to choose, Bianca"

Maybe it was his arm around her, or the cooling summer. Or maybe it was the alcohol—but something about the way he said those six words, as he brought her closer to him sounded so tragic.

She squirmed her arm behind his back, and straightened up, the two of them sitting beside each other as the sky began to turn lighter.

"I never knew you to be so dramatic. Things could be so much more simpler if you just looked to the right people," she murmured, not really intending for him to hear, surprised at herself for managing to sound so philosophical while under the influence.

"I wish it was as simple as sitting here with you, watching the sun come up," he responded, speaking at the same level.

She leaned his head on his shoulder, letting herself believe her sympathy for her killer was because she was drunk.

* * *

><p><strong>Butch.<strong>

_Looks like I'm sleeping on the floor tonight._ He thought, as he placed Bianca in his bed. He had not counted on her falling asleep on him. Just as he changed out of his pants, going to take off his shirt, he heard a small hiss that sounded a lot like his name.

"Butch!" she called, slightly louder this time. He turned around to face her and he felt that weird feeling in his stomach again. He pushed it down, reasoning that it had something to do with the wine.

"I need you to sleep with me," she whispered her eyes wild.

_Still drunk._

"How about you try that again when you're sober," he said, turning back around.

"I don't mean sex," she hiccupped, the annoyance evident in her voice, "just lie next to me…I—I have a feeling I'm going to have a nightmare tonight. Please," she repeated, the fear evident in her voice.

_Must not be the only one who is haunted with bad dreams._ Butch sympathized as he began to put his black t-shirt on.

It wasn't his intention to get her drunk—he had read online that wine is romantic, and he wanted to apologize to her for his disappearance. Who would have thought that he, Butch Jojo, would be at a loss of words. He wanted to try and make her understand—he was who he was because he _had_ to be, not because he wanted to be. But she never could, so he just didn't bother.

"No! Leave it off," she said suddenly, and he smirked at her as he could see her mentally slap herself for saying something like that, a small pink filling her cheeks.

"If you say so,"

"Do you have something I could wear? I don't want to sleep in my work clothes," she slurred, gesturing to her black yoga pants and white t-shirt. Butch tossed her the same shirt he just took off, too tired to look for something. He reluctantly turned around like she asked. "You can look now," she said, crawling under his sheets.

* * *

><p><strong><em>The worst kinds of nightmares were once memories.<em>**

**_That night, all he saw was her._**

**_..._**

_Buttercup groaned as she was struck to the ground for what would be her last time. She looked to her sisters, the both of them groaning._

_"How are they so strong?" the blonde one asked._

_"I don't know Bubbles," the eldest responded, her head bleeding from one of Brick's blows. It would be her undoing._

_Buttercup would not fall. She weakly got up only to fall back down again._

**_"Taunt them,"_**_ a voice whispered in his head, one they all could hear and were not allowed to disobey. _

_Not that Butch had a problem with taunting. He had done it _plenty_ of times before._

_"Loser!" Butch called, laughing, as he flew down and kicked her when she hit the ground again._

_The three brothers high-fived at their victory, knowing it would be a while before the stupid PowerPuffs interrupted their spree again._

**_"Kill them,"_** _the voice spoke again, sending a chill down every brother's spine. To actually kill was something the boys had never done before, but would end up doing every succeeding year. _

_"But they're already dying," Boomer said._

Idiot. Don't argue._ Butch thought at the time. Suddenly they all felt a stabbing pain in their necks._

**_"Disobeying? If you don't, they'll _****kill_ you! _****_You don't want to die, do you?" _**_With years to come, Butch would look back at Him's reasoning as the stupidest thing ever. But to a thirteen year old, who's already been killed before, it was _extremely_ motivating._

_…_

_"Give it back Butch!" _

_He turned around to stick his tongue out at her. A big mistake, immdieatly afterwards he slammed into a tree, and Buttercup snatched back her blanket. She pet it lovingly._

_They were about eight at the time and Butch looked at her with disbelief as he rubbed his head, "Never knew Butterbutt was such a girl,"_

_"Hey!" she growled, turning to look at him, her eyes filled with anger. Then, it switched, and suddenly they took on a more calmer appearance, "Don't think I don't know about Mr. Bear, Butch," she hummed, before shooting off in the air, no doubt going after Butch's favourite toy._

_…_

_He followed her after school, not surprised to see she was scaring off some first graders from the swing set, even though she was six grades older than them. _

_"What do you want now, Butch?" she growled, sensing him before he even made himself seen. He climbed into the set beside her, remarking on how different she looked—how much _older_ she looked. True, she was only twelve, it was only natural that she would quit looking like the five year-old she used to look like when he first met her._

_Her black hair was in a loose ponytail, and she was wearing a green shirt with a black ruffled skirt, matched with green converse._

Quit looking at her like that._ Butch thought at the time._

_"I'm sorry,"_

_"Oh? You're sorry you sabotaged our project and now we're failing history and Mrs. Kelly is going to call my dad?"_

_"Yeah," he looked down._

_"Well you can take your apology and shove it up your ass," she said, and in a light green flash she was gone._

_Little did she know that he went back to tell Mrs. Kelly the truth, and in the end, he was the only one who got in trouble. _

…

Butch woke up at around three in the afternoon, filled with an empty feeling in his heart, one he usually felt each time he dreamt about her. However, instead of waking up alone, he noticed there was someone else lying over his arm—someone very female.

His smirk fell when he remembered nothing happened.

_I don't have to get up right now…_He thought, as he got a whiff of her vanilla scented whatever. She smiled in her sleep and rolled over to him, practically snuggling underneath his arm. _I _definitely_ don't have to get up right now. _

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Look at Bianca, sleeping in Butch's bed-<em>again. <em>Hoe. Just kidding...**

**Anyway. I happen to have written this chapter because I like the Green interaction in my story so ha. I also wrote it as a bit of a time lapse and well, I wrote it cause I wrote it. **

**supersweetluvbug- thank you so much! haha I will try to keep up to your expectations :)!**

**kadienewberg- here's more romance ^ ;) hehehe.**

**Child Delinquent- I'm so glad you see my story like that!**

**As usual to my constant reviewers (old and new) thank you so much for your reviews, they mean the world to me.**

**..**

**I like dramatic periods. Like this one.**

**..**

**Hope this chapter made you fall asleep. Wait. That's not right...**


	39. Her Face

**Update:**

**HOLY! 100 reviews. That's just amazing. I'm so happy you like my story, the feeling is actually unbelievable. I know I normally leave replies and shout outs at the end but this was pretty colossal. **

**Grimlock the King of Stories- Thank you so much! And I feel sorry too...but I wrote it so its my fault...sorry :P. I hope I can keep up to your expectations :)**

**Fiya- Wow! Thank you so much for the long review. I'm glad I changed your opinions (in a good way). It is _definitely _not annoying to read, it's actually really touching. I hope you like this chapter too. See, I thought about interacting with other RRBs but Bianca and Beatrice have to keep it on the DL. I don't think I'll show their interactions because they are afraid that if they meet the three of them, that they will start to piece together who they actually are. At least not at the moment.**

**BC-luver123- thank you!**

**cartoonluver03- Thank you so much haha! And I will _definitely _(you know it's serious because I put it in italics) put in Blues romance! Please keep reading and I hope this chapter is just as awesome !**

**Summer Jonium- thank you so much and here is an update :)!**

**As usual, thank you so much for your reviews and for your compliments. I read them all and they mean the world to me! You guys are the best! xxx**

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><p>~Blossom~<p>

Beatrice had been working at RRB Corp. for awhile now, and had successfully built her reputation as the best assistant around. She wasn't sure why, but Boomer—her normally temperamental boss-began acting kinder towards her, albeit only slightly. She had gone to lunch with Brick regularly, and despite her best efforts she had warmed up to him.

However, Boomer not throwing his coffee against the wall when it was slightly off and Brick's soft smiles didn't avert her from the task at hand.

She and her sister, Bianca (formally known as Buttercup) had been waiting for this night for months now, the two of them working diligently—though in Beatrice's opinion _she_ was working much harder, she was after all the one who had a psycho boss—towards this one night. The RowdyRuffBoys would be working late that night—in a meeting-and it was the perfect opportunity to get Bianca into the building, where the two of them would finally talk to Bubbles, or rather her pseudonym Belle.

She left Boomer's office and did her best to check the rest of the office as well as Butch's, saving Brick's for last, as it was at the end of the hallway. When it was time to check Brick's office, she knocked a couple of times and when there was no response she turned the handle and nearly turned around and shut the door when she saw Brick was still in there. His head was down on his desk, and there were papers covering it. He didn't even react to his door opening.

Her heart beat fast, unsure of what may be lying underneath those papers. Slowly, she walked towards him, ready to pull the papers off of his head when his groan sent her hand flying back.

"Are you okay?" she asked. He put his hands over his head, and didn't look at her when he responded.

"I'm fine. Get out," he said. It was out of character for him to be so blatantly rude to her, but instead of doing as he asked, she sat down in the chair in front and crossed her arms, tapping on her elbow.

She waited for him to turn his head to look at her, and when he did she was surprised to see his eyes were bloodshot.

"Want to tell me you're fine again?" she teased, and he shut his eyes.

"Tired, is all,"

"How many hours of sleep did you get last night?" she asked, as though she was a concerned mother.

"I dunno. One or two,"

"Brick," she chided.

"I can't sleep at night," he grumbled, putting the papers back over his head.

"Nightmares," she concluded.

"That makes me sound like a wuss," he groaned.

"But true?" She straightened her light peach silk blouse, suddenly desperate for him to approve of her.

"Mrumph," he said, his voice inaudible underneath all the papers. She smiled as she brushed the papers away from his head.

"Why don't you tell me what they're about? Maybe it'll help,"

"Nah,"

"Tell me," she pressed.

"They're about a girl I used to know. She died, and it's my fault,"

Beatrice's hand goes to her mouth instinctively, and she has a feeling she knows _which_ girl he's talking about.

"It's not your fault, Brick," she says—because that's what you're supposed to say, not because it's true. It _is_ his fault, but she never expected to hear remorse coming from him.

He smiled as he sat up, leaning his head against his closed hand, "That's sweet, but it is my fault. Can't be helped. The only thing I guess that would make it better is if she was somehow still alive, but I know what's-his-face won't let that be true for long,"

Her head dinged: _Information._ She thought.

But that was just a small part of her, the realistic part. The other half happened to have a hero complex.

"I wish I could help somehow," she said honestly, forgetting for just a moment what she had to do that night, "Why don't you call me when you wake up from a nightmare?"

"I couldn't do that," he said, though his tone gave him away.

"It's fine, don't worry about it. I'm used to late nights anyway," she said with a soft smile, placing her hand over his.

"Thanks, Blossom," he said with a smile, as she fought her rigidness.

_Pretend he didn't say Blossom._

If he realized his mistake, he didn't show it.

"Shouldn't you be getting to your big meeting?" she asked politely.

"Yeah, but I'm currently not in the mood to listen to my two dads argue with Morbucks, or to watch Princess drool over Boomer, or to watch the other employees cower in fear. All those things are really irritating," he said, bringing his head back down, "I'd rather sleep," he groaned.

"So sleep," she said playfully.

"If I could, I would,"

"You mean if you didn't have this meeting?"

"No, if I didn't have nightmares,"

"Do you get them all the time?" she herself couldn't avoid how sympathetic her voice sounded.

"They're pretty bad around this time of year,"

_Mine are too._ She thought, referring to the fact that every time she falls asleep from around August to the end of November, her dreams are mostly nightmares.

"What are they like?"

"I dunno. Most I can't remember when I wake up," he said after some consideration.

"Do you know," he said, "that feeling you get, in the pit of your stomach when you know something is wrong?"

She nodded slowly, wondering where he was headed.

"I get that all the time. And there is _nothing_ I can do about it. Do you ever regret being born as what you were?"

_Sometimes._ She thought, but that wouldn't make sense if she said that to him.

"I get that all the time," he said, looking up at her, before shaking his head and standing up, "sorry—I didn't mean to go all depressing on you,"

She stood up too, "You didn't-,"

But she doesn't get to finish her sentence—she suddenly can't speak. He's advancing towards her, slowly but not fast enough for her. Beatrice steps forward, to close all the space that is between them and she realizes she's about half a head shorter than him—in heels. He looks at her, his eyes hungry and Beatrice subconsciously licks her lips. His fingers move to her chin, gently urging her to look up at him, something she finds she is currently unable to do.

Her eyelids fluttered closed and she leaned in, tilting her head. Their lips touch for the briefest moment before he laces his fingers in her hair, continuing to kiss her gently. Brick cupped her cheek in his palm and a satisfied sigh escapes Beatrice's mouth—against her will.

He is soft with her—as though she is easily broken—and his tongue brushes slightly against her lips, enticing Beatrice to open her mouth.

_What are you doing?_ Her brain screams, but she ignores it, instead meeting his tongue with her own. Their mouths and tongues mingle in a slow, erotic dance, until the sound of the intercom buzzing snaps Beatrice back to reality, pulling away.

_"Brick? Where are you? For you are not in the meeting room which is where you are supposed to be, thus prompting me to buzz you on the buzzer asking where you are because I do not know where you-_," Brick grumbles as he presses the button, telling what Beatrice assumed to be Mojo Jojo –_Who else talks like that?_—that he'll be there in a few minutes.

He looks at her with guilty eyes, "Sorry-,"

"It's okay," she said with a soft smile. Again, she was split in two. Part of her said that because it's what she is supposed to say, but a small, darker, longing part said that because it was the truth. She wouldn't address that half.

He looked at her, his eyes revealing that he was unsure of whether he wanted to leave or not, before he actually said 'I'll see you later' and left.

Beatrice let out a slow sigh, feeling light headed as she plopped down in his chair. A soft buzz from her phone brought her back to what she was supposed to be doing.

She pulled out her phone to see if it was Bianca, but instead saw two other messages.

_Abby The Best Girl Ever_

**_Hey bbg! I miss u tons, we should go out 4 drinks soon! Or rather, u could come over cuz mayb I shoudnt leave ben home alone! LOL. Lemme knoooo xoxox_**

_Brick_

**_Would you want to go out for a drink or two after this meeting? I'm not sure how late it will be though…_**

She smiled as she responded to them, writing another one for Bianca too.

**Re: **_Abby The Best Girl Ever_

**_I'd love to! Just let me know whenever you're free—I'm up for drinks or coming over _**

**Re: **_Brick_

**_Sure, why not? Just text me when you're about done._**

**To:** _Bianca_

**_Where are you? HURRY UP!_**

Beatrice smirked to herself at Brick's text—she had just got around the fear of wondering when they'll be done. Brick would _text_ her when he was done, giving them just enough time to get out of there.

_I can be so clever sometimes._

Her phone buzzed, and Beatrice saw it was from Bianca.

_Bianca_

**_Relax. Im in the lobby, waiting for u._**

**Re:**_ Bianca_

**_Okay, I'm coming down._**

Just as Beatrice got up, Brick's computer beeped. She looked at it and contemplated checking it out before deciding that was just what she would do. She shut the door to his office and walked around, pressing the space key on his laptop to get rid of the black screen. Grateful it hadn't gone into password mode yet, she clicked on the little play button that was glowing orange at the bottom of the computer screen.

A young—_shirtless_—seventeen year old Brick appeared.

**_"Hi, this is Brick again. This is my cover of I'm Yours by that Jason guy. Goes out to the same girl I always dedicate my songs to," _**The Brick in the screen said, before strumming a guitar and beginning to sing. Well.

She clicked through the videos—there were plenty of them-the most recent one being the **I'm Yours** cover. Each time he said the same thing, right before he went into singing. She finally landed on a particularly old looking video of a Brick at about fifteen years of age.

His hair was still pretty long, dishevelled and his eyes looked wild, as though he hadn't slept in days.

**_"My name's Brick. I don't know _why_ I'm saying this, because no way in hell am I gonna show this to anyone. But I'm saying it anyway and if you have a problem with it you can suck it. I can't sleep—I haven't had a full night sleep in almost two years, all cuz I keep seeing her damn face. So this is dedicated to her, 'cause she seems to stick around even after she's friggen dead. It's by that pansy Jesse McCartney,"_**

_Not to sound conceited, but he's talking about you, Bea. _Beatrice thought, gasping softly, as Brick went through a rendition of "Beautiful Soul" by Jesse McCartney. Her phone began to vibrate and she shut down Brick's computer quickly, knowing it was Bianca who was calling her.

"_Where are you? It's been an hour! Are we going to do this or not?_" The other line whispered.

"Yeah," she said, standing in the threshold of his office, "I'm coming,"

Beatrice turned off the light and shut the door behind her, heading towards the elevator to go get her sister.

_They were all about me?_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: I figured since I did a long ass Bianca (Buttercup) and Butch, it was only fair to do a long REDs. So here's a long reds for you, that just adds some depth to Brick. When I began this fic, I always saw Brick as <em>that<em> kind of guy, so it was only a matter of time before I let you guys in on it. Originally, I wasn't going to actually write it up, it was just something for me so I had some depth to Brick, too.**

**If you're wondering about how Bianca felt after waking up in Butch's bed, I have it on pretty good word that you'll find out in the next chapter.**

**Also, I figured the kiss would be a pretty nice touch, considering as how I made Brick the more awkward one in this. I hope it doesn't seem random-because as I was writing it, it didn't seem random from Brick's point of view, but it's _supposed_ to see random for Beatrice...you know? Whatever :P. Here are some of the songs he did covers of, if you guys wanna give them a listen:**

youtube(dot)com/watch?v=cl88QEll-Xc

youtube(dot)com/watch?v=fQLKHXhSHno

youtube(dot)com/watch?v=3JV74i4yvcA&feature=related

youtube(dot)com/watch?v=PP_apsbNev8&feature=related

youtube(dot)com/watch?v=RBM_srNAOk8&feature=related

**There's more but you can use your imagination :). I originally put them all but it just didn't flow nicely.**

**Hope this chapter made you go crazy with happiness. Yes, _that_ crazy.**


	40. Let's Do This

**Author's Note: Swear words D: nothing _too_ bad, but I thought I should warn you anyway :}D (-mustache man's cousin)**

* * *

><p>~Buttercup~<p>

Bianca paced the lobby, her black sneakers squeaking against the marble every so often.

_I wonder what Butch would think of what I'm wearing…_She thought, referring to the fact that she was clad in all black—a short sleeved v-neck and black skinny jeans complete with all-black converse. _Quit thinking about Butch!_ She thought, shaking her head as she glanced towards the elevator again. Though she didn't want to, her mind kept trailing back to that morning as she thought about all the possible reasons she was curled up beside him. It had been nearly a week since that fateful morning, and she felt her chest fall with disappointment each time she woke up and there were no missed calls from Butch.

**Bianca woke up with a soft groan, and a smile because she had slept soundly. That night, she had a dreamless sleep, unlike the nightmares she was usually faced with after a night spent drinking. Her eyes shot open, clearing the haze inside them as she began to remember who she spent the night with. With a slow horror, she realized she was not in her own bed, but not necessarily in strange surroundings either. **

**She turned her head slowly, unsure of what she would find beside her—she hoped she would find nothing. Alas, her hopes were not met and she found she was sleeping next to a shirtless, dark haired boy whose bed she had been in once before.**

**_I'm in Butch's bed…with Butch…and I'm wearing Butch's t-shirt. _Bianca began to rack her brain for details of the night before.**

**_I can't remember a thing from last night. Shit._**

**Bianca lifted her head up with caution, and silently debated whether or not she wanted to leave, much to her revulsion.**

**She carefully wiggled away from Butch, deciding that staying was possibly the worst idea she could have come up with, and crawled out of the bed, stripping out of his black t-shirt into the clothes she was wearing last night. She wrapped her hair into a messy bun, and hesitated before opening the door to sneak out, unsure if she would be greeted with his brothers. Her face contorted in panic, _What happened last night? What did I do? What did _we_ do? I need to leave._**

**He let out a light moan, causing Bianca to freeze. She did not want to be caught sneaking out. Bianca figured if he woke up without a trace of her in his bedroom, perhaps he too would not remember last night and he would go on with his life forgetting that he ever slept with her_—if we did have_...sex, Bianca thought, her worry level growing.**

**_If we didn't, even better right?_ To her relief he was merely turning to sleep on his side, and continued sleeping soundly in his bed. She pressed her ear to his door, and when she heard nothing but silence on the other side, she carefully tipped toed out of his room, cursing the creaking sound the door made. Fortunately, it was the middle of the afternoon, and there was nobody in sight and she was free to leave without being harassed.**

To her relief, Bianca was saved from her thoughts as her sister appeared in the elevator doorway, calling Bianca over.

"You know what you're to do, right?" Beatrice asked her once she had arrived in the elevator.

"We've only been going over it every single day, Bea," she replied sarcastically.

"Right," her sister said, with a brief nod, though Bianca could tell her auburn haired sister was feeling less than prepared, "this is it. You know what to do," Beatrice said, as the elevator arrived at the boy's condo.

Bianca turned to her sister and placed both hands on her shoulders, "Listen to me. Don't get too panicky about this. Just do your task and I'll do mine," Beatrice nodded professionally. With that, Bianca stepped out of the elevator and opened the door to the condo, using the keys Beatrice had been given once she was hired by Boomer.

_Let's do this._

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><p><strong>Author's Note: This started out as a longer chapter but I changed it so you could see the rest from Belle's POV. Just a warning, shit is about to get <em>intense.<em> Well it was for me...anyway. Oh man. I hope you guys liked this chapter and you didn't think it was terrible...i mean...what? totally not insecure about what you guys think...LOL.**

**katz- oh I know! I hate when that happens x(! I can assure you I will be updating consistently until this story is done. And I am honored that I have earned a tab in your browser.**

**snowheart123- thank you :D!**

**XDPirateLover1XD- glad you love it and you shall see :D**

**MilitaryBratUsa- thanks! I have a brilliant mind ? :D**

**As usual, thank you so so much for the long and detailed reviews :D**


	41. Reunited

~Bubbles~

Once Belle had finished her chores for the day, she had settled down on the couch, flipping aimlessly through the channels. Eventually she fell asleep, the sound of the television acting as a lullaby.

The door creaked open and she woke up with a jolt, not wanting to be caught sleeping on the couch—even though she had clocked out at least an hour ago, a habit picked up from working for the Furds.

However, instead of being greeted by her employers, she was met by someone dressed in all black, their features masked by the darkness in the room. Belle began to scream.

"Bubbles!" the voice hissed, rushing over to her and clamping their hand over her mouth. She bit down immediately, "Ow! Bubbles. Calm down. It's me," the voice said, throwing their hand back. She flicked on the side lamp and nearly began screaming again when she recognized who was standing in front of her.

"Buttercup?" Belle's eyes widened, "What are you doing here? Are you crazy?"

"Gee I could ask you the same question. Do you have a death wish? Why are you working for _them_?"

"Wait—does…does this mean you have your powers back?"

"No, and neither does Blossom,"

Something inside Belle cracked, "The two of you…the two of you have…talked?"

"Yes, we—,"

"Oh, how lovely. So really all this was, was the two of you trying to get rid of me, the weaker sibling!"

"No, Bubbles—,"

"_I don't know who you're talking about, my name's Belle,_" she said, mimicking the way Buttercup had shut her down in the café.

"Bubbles will you—,"

"Maybe I _do_ have a death wish, but why would you care? That would just make your life easier, wouldn't it?"

Buttercup glared at her, and Belle found herself returning the same glare.

"Quit being such a baby. We were looking for you,"

"Blossom has been at the apartment countless of times! You've been here before too!" Belle crossed her arms.

"Hello? Whose apartment is this? We couldn't exactly stop and say hello,"

She dropped her gaze, "Oh…right,"

"Now will you let me explain?" Buttercup said softly, her jade eyes boring into Belle.

Instead, Belle began to cry, "Bu-buttercup!" she said, rushing to her sister and throwing her arms tightly around her, ready to squeeze the life out of her, "I missed you so much," she blubbered into her sister's shoulder.

Awkwardly, Buttercup began to hug Belle back before hugging her completely. Belle eventually pulled away, and wiped her tears, letting Buttercup know that she could begin her explanation.

Belle sat patiently as her sister filled her in on what was going on—speaking a mile a minute.

_Ok. So…we're supposed to get close to the boys and get information…and_

"And then what?" she asked, interrupting.

"What do you mean?"

"We get the information, so what do we do with it? We can't go to the police—the boys are higher than that. What are we going to do with the information? Start a rebellion?"

"Beatrice knows all the details to the second half of the plan,"

"Beatrice?"

"Blossom's alias,"

"Oh. I'm Belle, by the way—what was yours again? Bianca?" her sister nodded, "Will I get to see her?"

"Depends on how much she gets done in the allotted time," Bianca checked her watch.

"I can safely say they don't keep much in their apartment. It's probably all up in their office,"

"How did you end up working for them?" Bianca blurted.

She ran her hand through her hair, "I used to work for some pretty bad people. It's a long story for a different time, but Boomer offered me a job when I was faced with homelessness,"

"That's…_nice_ of him,"

"I know. It was really weird,"

~Blossom~

_Jackpot._ Beatrice looked around inconspicuously before opening the big red file titled CONFIDENTIAL.

**A proposal.**

**Crime has certainly been under wraps since the RowdyRuff Corporation has been in charge. But one cannot argue with talks of 'rebellion' against the current government. It is clear something must be done to set an example. If you are in a place of high order, most certainly that is why you are reading this letter that will introduce the contents of the folder.**

**This is a proposal that will end the problem of those pesky little rebels. An innovative new fighting android known as 'Xion' programmed to find and destroy all those with doubts against the government that has been instilled over the past ten years. **

**The 'Xion' android is programmed to look like a normal human just long enough until it hears inappropriate talk about 'rebellion'. It then will _dispose_ of the rebel swiftly and accordingly. **

**Xion is essentially an android that was created in a similar fashion to the RowdyRuff Boys (_see: page 7),_ with a much more concentrated amount of Chemical X and more advanced materials.**

**The android has been in beta testing for over a year, being trained against our toughest fighters until it can easily win. The reason you are reading this proposal is to ask for your donation to the project, in order to continue living in a safe environment.**

**Signed,**

**Him**

**Mojo Jojo**

**Brick Jojo**

**Butch Jojo**

**Boomer Jojo**

The rest of the file folder contained information about the android, how it works and how it was created, as well as progress reports.

Beatrice's hands shook.

_There's no way. There's no way they would have signed this knowing what it meant…_She put the file folder back down and began walking towards the elevator, quickly sending a text to Bianca informing her that she would be down soon.

_Who are you kidding? Everything about that file folder _screams_ RowdyRuff Boys. This is _exactly_ what they would do._ She scoffed. "_Crime has certainly been under wraps since the RowdyRuff Corporation has been in charge." Yes, it's been under wraps—the police are _constantly_ covering things up. _

The elevator dinged her stop and she knocked furiously on the door in front of her.

"Blossom!" A longing voice called, wrapping its arms around her before she had a second to register who it was, "Oh, Blossom, I'm so glad we can _finally_ be together-,"

"Bubbles," she froze, before returning her sister's hug momentarily forgetting her previous anger.

In the seven years they had been apart, Beatrice had nearly forgotten how _bubbly_ Bubbles could be.

She thought back to when she was eleven years old, and had just come back from an overnight field trip with the debate team.

**_"BLOSSOM!" Bubbles screamed, tackling her sister the moment she walked through the door. Blossom smiled as she hugged her sister_** **_back, "I missed you so, so, so much! How as it? Didja win?"_**

**_The Professor chuckled as he ruffled the blonde's hair, "She's only been gone two days, Bubbles,"_**

**_"I _know_ but it felt like forever!_"**

_If that was how she felt after a night apart, how did she bode with seven _years_ apart?_

She wasn't crying, like Beatrice had assumed she would, merely holding her in a death grip, before pulling away only to drag a reluctant Bianca in the hug.

"Reunited, finally," Bubbles said, her voice muffled as she hugged her sisters who happened to be taller than her.

Her previous panic was replaced with a sudden warm, fuzzy feeling inside her as it spread from her chest all the way up to her face, pulling a huge grin on her face.

_I didn't know how much I missed the three of us being together…_

She couldn't cry, but she certainly wanted to. Tears of sadness at being apart for so long, and tears of happiness for finally being brought back together.

"Ok, enough hugging," she said, taking on the role of the leader as she usually did, "we have some _big_ problems,"

She sat down, and immediately went into reciting what she found in the file folder.

"No…they couldn't have agreed to that,"

_That's what I thought too._ But she didn't say that, "Be serious Bubbles, I mean who are we dealing with?"

Bianca didn't respond, she merely sat by and looked as though she was considering what Beatrice had to say.

"I think we're getting too close to the boys. And Bubbles wasn't even _aware_ of the plan. We need to keep an emotional distance, while still staying close enough to gather information and formulate a plan,"

She nearly winced at her own words, and she wasn't sure why.

Bubbles pursed her lips, "Okay…" she said slowly, as though she was just as unsure as Beatrice wasn't letting on, "it's hard getting close to Boomer though, as you would know,"

"Belle put up a good point, Bea,"

"Who?"

"Bubbles—she goes by Belle," Beatrice nodded in understanding, "what do we do now? What's the second half?"

_I haven't gotten that far…_

"Um, it's simple. We continue getting close to the boys while also preparing for…a break in…"

"A break in?" Bianca and Belle chimed at the same time.

"For what?" Belle asked.

"We have to blow up the androids,"

_That sounds like a stupid idea, Beatrice._ But she wouldn't let up. She was the leader and this was her plan.

"That sounds like a stupid idea, Beatrice," Bianca said, voicing Beatrice's thoughts.

"Well, what else? Stand by? We don't have our powers; we have to work with what we have,"

"Why don't we try to convince the boys to do something about it?" Belle said.

"This information is _confidential_. How do we convince them not to do something we're not supposed to know about?" she challenged.

"It's like you said. We have to get close to them, get them to open up,"

_I hate to say it…_

"Good idea, Bianca,"

_Now I sound stupid. Great. Way to be a leader, Blossom—wait. _

She thought back to earlier that evening, when she was in Brick's office.

_Brick called me Blossom earlier, because he was really tired. _

"He did?" Belle asked, her voice climbing in pitch, revealing her fear.

"Did I just speak aloud?"

"Did you not mean to?" Bianca asked, her tone teasing.

"Of course I meant to. And yes, he did. He didn't realize his mistake, though. If he was that vulnerable simply because he was tired and he trusted me…Yes, great idea Belle. Getting closer to them will get them to open up, and…yes," she was mainly speaking to herself.

"If all else fails, we can blow up the androids like you wanted," Bianca teased, causing Beatrice to send her a warning glare.

"Obviously we have to work fast," Beatrice said, continuing.

"We might even get our powers back!" Belle said with a happy giggle.

_Always the optimist…_

"Oh, Belle. It's been ten years. It's not happening. I'm sorry, hun," Beatrice patted Belle on the knee, her eyes full of sympathy.

Her phone began to buzz, "That's Brick. We need to leave," she shot up out of the chair, "if we can manage, we'll come back again. Don't try and contact us, it's too dangerous for you, considering your surroundings," she gave Belle one last hug, "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too," Belle responded. The two looked meaningfully at Bianca.

She grumbled, "I love you too, now let's go!"

Bianca shoved Beatrice in front of her, pushing her out of the door. Once she was out, Beatrice felt empty once more.

_This has to end. Soon._

* * *

><p><strong>~Bubbles~<strong>

_**That night Belle dreamt she was flying, and when she woke, she was.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: I kept re-writing POVs like a MADWOMAN. Also, 'DUHN DUHN DUHHHNNNN'. Sorry for not updating in a while, I caught a <em>terrible<em> head cold and I couldn't sit in front of a screen for more than ten minutes before I felt like my brain was melting. I still have it, so unfortunately slower updates. **

**kaliycoco- thanks :D**

**fearlessgurl101- Aw :)! Thank you so much that's so sweet of you to say! I'll do my best to keep updating quickly :)**

****MisRcyLoe- Thank you so much for your long and detailed review, and I'll keep your critiques in mind as I write new chapters. I'm really glad you think I'm better than I think I am...my insecurities merely stem from the fact that I have perfectionist tendencies :P****


	42. A Monkey's Point Of View

*Mojo Jojo*

Mojo Jojo scrunched his lips and furrowed his brows, staring with worry at his three boys.

_They have never looked more distressed_

He would never pay attention to any of the meetings-it wasn't his..._thing_. Him would take care of the plans, and Mojo would carry the plan out, more often than not alongside his boys.

Brick, with his calculating mind and his ever present smirk.

Boomer, with his far off look and slow reactions.

Butch, with his constant attitude and thirst for evil.

Those were not the boys sitting to his right today. Boomer looked anything but pleased at the woman fawning over him. Butch looked distant and disconnected. Brick looked as though he hadn't slept in days.

Mojo sighed in worry. He would have to do the unbearable- talk to his boys about what was wrong.

"We have al-already received over a million dollars i-in donations. How-however we still require at least 10 million more," the lanky man at the front said, pulling Mojo Jojo out of his trance. He grumbled in worry, causing the man to freeze, the sweat on his forehead evident even from where Mojo was sitting, across the room.

"_Continue._" Him said, and the man was immediately reanimated. Mojo Jojo scrunched his lips and furrowed his brows, staring with worry at his three boys.

_I will have to approach them after the meeting…_ He thought, as the man droned on.

Eventually, Him announced the end of the meeting, and Mojo realized that perhaps the ending had come too soon, "_Boys. I would like to see you in my office in ten minutes,_" Mojo smirked as his boys stifled a groan.

"Uh, boys," he said, as Butch began to get up.

"What?" they asked in unison, bringing their full attention to him.

_They have grown quite a lot…_

"I have a matter to address with you, that is—,"

"Go on," Boomer cut him off.

"Well…"

"Any time you're ready," Butch said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Instead of responding, Mojo Jojo stood in front of his 'sons', speechless, unconfident on how to start.

"What do you want," Brick yelled finally, his volume shifting randomly between quite and loud.

Mojo swallowed—he wasn't sure how to address his..._feelings_. He thought back to when things were simpler—his first batch, before his boys were destroyed by simple kisses. They had come back to celebrate their victory. He smiled at the memory.

"He's smiling like an idiot..." Butch murmured.

"Yup, he's lost it," Boomer said with a sad shake of his head.

"I have not lost it! It is perfectly fine because it is not lost otherwise I would be speaking like a maniac, which I am not, because I have not lost it!" He said, breathing heavily. His mental health was always a touchy subject.

"I think he lost it a long time ago," Butch whispered, his eyes remaining on Mojo.

"Can you just say what you want? Him'll be pissed if we're late meeting him," Brick said, lifting his head up.

"Right..." Mojo took in a deep breath, "What is the matter?" He said finally, surprisingly concise.

The boys were taken aback-what he had just asked was _not_what they were expecting.

Brick was the first to speak, "No..thing?"

"Yeah, nothing!" Boomer agreed. They all looked at Butch expectantly.

Boomer elbowed his brother roughly, "Do not lie to me! You are lying, I can tell, for if I couldn't I would not have accused you of lying. Why would I ask whether something was wrong if nothing was wrong? It is obvious there is something wrong which is why you have chosen to lie to me,"

"Well…" Butch began, to which Brick reacted by slamming his head back down, and Boomer plopping down in a chair.

"Go on,"

"What if I liked a girl…"

"You have _liked_, plenty of girls, if I remember correctly, which—,"

"No. I mean…_seriously_ liked a girl?"

"Expand,"

"What if I _like_ liked her?"

He had read about this in a parenting magazine, and he feared the day he would have to deal with it. Him had always promised he would deal with those kinds of matters, but it was obvious Him was not doing a very good job.

"I…I suppose it does not matter," he said finally, "I just want my boys to be happy,"

Before any more could be said, a voice screeched, calling the boys and explaining that they were late.

"Well…thanks dad. We'll see you around," they said, before running out. He suddenly felt warm inside, at the sight of Brick's nod of recognition, Butch's happy smile, and Boomer's relieved face.

_What I had said was true. I just want my boys to be happy._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>**There it was, by popular demand (not really) Mojo Jojo's POV. He's a big ol' softie, and I promise that part is important, so _don't you forget it!_ I feel terrible for not updating for, what, five days? But I'm all better now :D! So frequent updates are here to stay!**

**Being sick felt like death. I hate being sick D:...Thank you to all who reviewed!**

**Kiserchild94- Sorry for making you wait so long :P! Heehee, I'm glad too :)**

**Cookies-For-Cats22- I'm glad you liked it! And well I suppose you'll just have to wait and see ;) mwahahaa**

**_-(you didn't have a name) Well thank you! And I'm really happy that I'm not going to slow or too fast in your opinion, that's just what I was aiming for!**

**Lavenderprincess22- Thank you so much! And I'll be updating faster now that I'm all better.**

**Miss penny- I hate being sick :( and thank you!**

**Ana Faith- Thanks! I hope you still like it :3**

**POWERPUFFFAN1996- Here you go! Thanks for the review!**

**3vryda3amshufflin- I won't stop 'till you get enough. (See what I did there?) And you'll find out about that maybe soon *twirls nonexistent mustache* **

**NinaRN- Yes and no. Originally, the chapter was like this: **

"Ah!" the body screamed as Boomer threw it back, rushing forwards in a blue flash, raising his hand menacingly.

"That's enough," his brother, Butch, who (despite his bad attitude reputation) had a cool head said, knocking Boomer's hand down.

"What do you mean?" Boomer growled, pulling his fist out of his brother's hold, "I was just getting started!"

"I said, _that's enough._ Stand down. Stop letting your temper get in the way of things," he repeated, sterner than the last time. At his words, the body disintegrated and Brick could feel the tension grow. Boomer always used Monday nights as his way to let go of his temper, often going overboard and getting the three of them in trouble.

"You're such a party pooper," Boomer whined.

With that, the forest surrounding them began to glitch, and before they knew it, the two boys, and Brick were back in the simulation room.

A door appeared in the now red room, and in stepped through Him, and Brick repressed a chill that went down his back.

"You always take the fun out of things! When did you become such a wet blanket?" Boomer yelled, pushing his brother.

"**_That's enough, Boomer_**," Him said, his eyes narrowing at the blonde boy, "_Excellent job, Butch,"_

"Thank you sir,"

"**_As for you Brick,_**" he said, turning around to stare at the third brother, "_your performance was less than satisfactory. It seems you were unfocused—again._"

"I-," Brick began.

"_It's such a shame, really. You were doing so good,"_

**Sorry for leaving such a long reply but I felt it was necessary. However, after I finished writing that half, I stumbled upon (literally...you know the website?) that comic, and it just clicked that it would make more sense for Boomer to get in trouble, and was a perfect explanation for his toothache (which originally had a different explanation, but I won't go into it). **

**shhhh- I did :D thanks for the get well wishes!**


	43. Tired

**Brick**

Brick groaned as Him slammed the contract down on the desk. Him had been piling on the contracts over the past two years, with each proceeding contract growing in size.

_This looks like it's twenty-five pages._

"_Just some…legalities, I need it signed by tomorrow,_"

_All nighter..again. Maybe I should cancel on-nah._

Brick was the only one of his brothers who actually bothered to read the contracts, as he saw it as his responsibility to find out what they were getting themselves into.

"_If_ we agree to signing it," Brick said, stifiling a yawn.

Him froze briefly before turning and smiling, "_Of course. You two may leave. I need to discuss Boomer's…_priorities_,_"

Boomer sunk in his chair, looking at the exit to Him's office longingly. Butch practically ran out of there, Brick following while sending a message to Beatrice.

**To: Beatrice Trigbee**

**Subject: Drinks?**

_I just got out, are you still up for drinks?_

She responded almost immediately.

**From: Beatrice Trigbee**

**Re: Drinks**

_Sure, where?_

**To: Beatrice Trigbee**

**Re: Drinks**

_Pokey Oaks bar at the RRB skyscraper?_

He felt cheesy for inviting her back to the company building, but he didn't know any other bars, besides _**XXX**_, but that would have just been weird.

"_Finally._ I thought for sure I'd die of heat stroke that time," Butch said, referring to the fact that it was always boiling in Him's office. Brick smiled meekly, too tired to hold up a decent conversation as the two walked to the elevator.

Butch pressed the elevator button repeatedly, "You know the more you press it doesn't really make a difference," Brick sighed.

He looked up, and noticed the elevator was stuck on their floor, which only contained their condo.

_Don't be stupid, it's probably just there or something._

Eventually the elevator made its way back up to the top floor, and the two piled into the elevator. Brick looked at the contracts in his hand, "Shit, Brick, those look long,"

"Yeah, not looking forward to reading them,"

"Here's an idea: just don't read them. What's the big deal?"

"Nope, I couldn't do that. Although sometimes it feels like that's what Him _wants_ us to do," he said with a joking tone.

…

"Oh hey you guys…where's Boomer?" Belle asked, when Brick and Butch arrived at the condo. If Brick had been more awake, he would have noticed the nervous way Belle was speaking, and perhaps had felt suspicion.

"He's still in the office," Butch said with a yawn, before saying 'night' and residing to his room.

"Oh, okay. Not that I care or anything," she shrugged. Brick managed to raise an eyebrow, "What? I'm going to bed!" she dashed off down the hall to her room.

"_Women_,"

…

When he arrived at Pokey Oaks bar, Beatrice was already there. She was sitting at the bar, holding a martini glass.

_Wow…she looks…wow._

She was wearing a loose light pink dress with ruffled straps, and a black sash around the waist. Her hair was curled and her lips looked plump. Before he knew it, he was sitting beside her.

"Did you wait long?" he asked, feeling slightly underdressed in his jeans, white t-shirt and opened red plaid shirt.

She shrugged, "Red looks nice on you," something about the way she spoke sounded so…inviting, "hope you're not too tired to have a little fun," she winked.

Something about the way she was acting seemed out of character, as though she was trying to prove something. He was too tired to be sceptical, and she just looked so good.

"Of course not,"

…

Words and images were blurring together, and his face hurt from laughing so hard. That was what he liked most about Beatrice—she was easy to talk to. It's almost as though she knew that talking to girls wasn't his forte, and accepted it completely.

"So what was the meeting about?" she asked, as she took a sip of her cherry martini.

"Oh, just some project or something," he said, not sure if he was speaking properly.

"Project?"

"Yeah, I'm not too sure what about…" he furrowed his brows in confusion, which seemed to slightly upset Beatrice.

"Not one little thing?" she pouted.

"Too tired and drunk to think right," he said with a smirk. She stared at him intently.

Him had told Brick to focus more on the future of the company, in fact, if he thought about it, Him had practically _threatened_ not to get too involved.

**_'Especially not with a certain red head.'_** He had said.

_What he doesn't know won't hurt him._

She smiled at him, and that's when he realized that if he were to die, he would die in peace if he could just see that smile one last time.

_If I could just see _her_ smile one last time…_ He thought, as a different face popped into his head, of a similar red head, with pink eyes and a knowing glint in her eye, before disappearing in a black smoke.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: It's short, I know, sorry Red fans. Red chapters usually take me long to put up, and the document file for this chapter I had to keep re-writing because my computer would shut down and I DIDN'T SAVE. EVERYTIME. Another chapter will be up shortly, I promise!<strong>

**Oh, and a special thanks to kiserchild94, who took the time to draw the characters (how I have made them). They're REALLY good, and spot on. I don't know when (or if for that matter) kiserchild94 will be putting them online, but when it happens, I'll be sure to link you guys. You really need to check them out :D!**

**Afnan- Thanks so much! Why does everyone think I'm going to stop suddenly :/ ?**

**Justadreamer15- thank you! Here's some more, and there will be even more after that :D**

**amythist7- Really? Thanks :D, I hope so :)! Thanks for going back and reviewing the first four chapters. They needed some reviewing love :)**

**As usual, I love your reviews you guys. I love them. You're all really really awesome and so kind I can't get enough of them. I'm glad you guys liked Mojo being a softie, I _always_ saw him as a softie. **


	44. Floating

~Bubbles~

**_Belle was having a perfect dream. She was walking in a beautiful meadow, the sky the bluest it's ever been. Birds were singing, and she realized she wanted nothing more than to fly in the sky too. A thought came up._**

_This is a dream. You can fly, if you want._

**_And so, she did._**

Belle had a smile plastered on her face as she dreamt that she was flying, feeling exhilarated. A slamming door pulled her from her perfect dream. She tried to get back to sleep, but realized her pillow wasn't under her head.

She was _floating._ Just as quickly as she realized, she came tumbling down into her bed.

_Did I imagine that? Oh, if there's anyone out there who's listening, please tell me I didn't imagine that. _

If she wasn't afraid of being walked in on, she would have tried again.

_So much for going back to sleep. _Suddenly she was too excited to sleep. _I might as well see who came stomping in—like I need to check._ She thought with a roll of her eyes. It was most definitely Boomer.

"What?" he growled, once she walked into the living room, even though his back was to her.

"Hello to you too, Boomer," she said, taken slightly aback at his attitude towards her. A dark blue flash sent him to the kitchen, his blue eyes boring into her, visible even in the dark. She felt uncomfortable.

"Just coming to say hello, then?" Belle always felt an inkling of fear creep up behind her whenever Boomer decided he would take his anger out on her.

"No, I came to see whether the tornado I thought stormed in through that door," she pointed, angrily, "did much damage,"

_Calm down, Belle, he can't help it. No! I won't calm down! He has no right to take whatever upset him out on me!_

"Do you have a problem with my attitude?" he spat, his tone disbelieving.

"You make it seem like you don't have a problem to begin with!" she shot back.

He leaned against the counter, "That's some talking coming from a maid," his tone was lighter, less full of anger and more full of hurtful intent.

_Mission accomplished._

She didn't respond, "Considering the fact that the only reason you're not homeless is because I offered you a job,"

Each word felt like a single blow to her.

"I didn't even ask for a resume, or ask what your highest form of education is,"

Again, she stayed silent.

"Like I needed to. You probably dropped out of high school. You have the intelligence of a gnat,"

_Too far. How am I supposed to get close to that cruel being? It's not _my_ fault I didn't go to high school! He took that away from me! They all did!_

"So next time, _maid_, you have a complaint, you should keep it to yourself, unless you'd like to find yourself out of a job," he stalked past her, and she noticed burn marks on the side of his face and neck.

_There's your chance, Belle. _

_I don't want to. I want to go to my room and cry._

_That's not an option anymore. You have a job to do._

She took a deep breath and sat in the lounge chair beside the couch where Boomer lay, sulking.

Belle crossed her legs underneath her, "Why are you burnt?" she inquired, doing her best to sound innocent.

"You're like stupid dog, who even after being hit still comes back happily," he said, not looking at you.

_Ignore._

"I guess I am," she said. He looked at her, and she realized his eyes weren't shining with simple anger, but _longing_ anger.

"I stepped out of line," he said simply, challenging her.

"Out of line and into a boiler?"

He smirked and muted the television, which was airing an infomercial.

_Must be late._

"You could say that," he smirked, "My _dad_ doesn't think I know where my priorities are," he nearly choked when he said 'dad'.

"Where does he think they should be?"

_Here we go…_

"Isn't that a little personal question for your boss?" he said, turning to look at her.

She felt her face go red with embarrassment, and she was grateful it was too dark to see.

"You're so nosy today," he turned back to the television, his face lit from the moving colours on the screen.

"You're so _cranky _today. Then again, it's a surprise when you aren't," she muttered.

He sighed, "Princess is complaining, apparently,"

"What about?"

"I'm not giving her enough attention,"

"So? Then why doesn't she break up with you?"

She regretted saying that, **_I _always_ get what I want._** She thought, of the first time she met Princess.

"It's not her thing,"

"You must really like her to go through all this," her eyes sparkled, knowing what he would say next.

"I don't really like her at all,"

She feigned surprise, "Well then why are you with her?"

He hung his head, looking more upset than she thought he would be. Her heart went out to him, unwillingly, "I have to, or her dad won't sign over his businesses. She won't have him sign until she's married to me. She used to want Brick, but they had a falling out,"

"That's terrible!" she said sincerely.

"I guess. It's what I have to do. He's right, I don't have my priorities straight," he said, with a sudden change of heart.

"You shouldn't have to marry someone you don't want,"

"I don't have a choice, so why fight it? It's pointless, and it brings pointless pain," he said, even though the angry burn on the left side of his face was already fading.

"It's not pointless. Not if you're fighting for your happiness,"

He scoffed, "My _happiness?_" Suddenly she felt as if she really _did_ have the intelligence of a gnat, "I'm sorry for calling you stupid earlier," he said after some time.

"Boomer apologizing? That's the first time I've ever heard you say 'sorry' I wasn't sure if you knew how to pronounce it," she teased, trying to bring a lighter tone to the conversation.

"No, seriously. You're not stupid,"

She smiled weakly, "It's alright. I really didn't go to high school," she said, and he raised his eyebrows, "my only family was killed when I was thirteen, and I started working for the Furds when I was sixteen. It was all about survival, high school wasn't an option," she shrugged. She could tell he felt guilty—ten years ago a lot of people died. Then again, she _wanted_ him to feel guilty.

_It's his fault._

A dark blue flashed the room, and he was beside her, but only for a moment.

"While I can," he whispered, and his lips were placed ever so delicately on her cheek. Another blue flashed, and the door to his room slammed shut.

She raised a hand to her cheek, feeling her face turn red and more confused than ever. She floated up to her room, her hand still stuck to her cheek.

She froze before opening the door.

_I _literally_ floated here._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: There it is, as promised! I'm starting work tomorrow D:...no worries, I'll still update :)! Hope it doesn't feel random...<strong>

**I hope you guys review BOTH chapters. That'd be sick ;). **

**Thanks for the awesome reviews :). Heehee. **


	45. Control

**Butch**

"You're so funny," she said with a giggle, snuggling underneath his arm. He smiled back half heartedly at her, before rolling his eyes once she looked away. He was waiting for her to leave—they had spent the night _getting to know each other_ and it was now Sunday morning and he couldn't wait for her to get out.

_This is the last time I bring a girl back to my place…_ He thought, while he thought about how it would have been easier had they done it at her place. He looked at her; the girl was hot, but she was no Bianca. She didn't have Bianca's curves, or her sarcasm. She didn't have Bianca's big green eyes, no, this girl had dull brown eyes. Her hair didn't fall in soft, loose curls, but was rather dead from over using the straightener. Her smile wasn't perfect, and her laugh wasn't addictive. She was nothing like Bianca. She was far from perfection.

"Listen…" he began.

"Yeah?" she asked, looking up at him, her brown eyes wide and excited.

"I have to get to work…" he lied. The disappointment was visible on her face.

"Okay, I'll get out of your hair," she said, closing her eyes and puckering her lips. He sighed and pecked her, even though it was obvious she wanted more than a peck. She rolled off of him and began putting her clothes on.

"Call me?" she asked, once she was at the door to his room.

He smiled in response.

_You didn't give me your number…_He thought, but she was gone already, and Butch was left alone with his thoughts which had little variety.

The morning after he had slept in the same bed as Bianca— when he woke up to find her gone, the first thing he wanted to do was explain to her that nothing had happened. It wasn't normally his kind of thing to do, but there was something different about Bianca. Almost as though they were one in the same. He had felt good after speaking to Mojo, but slightly discouraged a few days later.

**"_Butch,"_ Him called through the intercom, his voice stretching out Butch's name, "_Can I see you in my office please?_" Butch said he would, "Immediately_,_"**

**"What did you need?" he asked, while standing in Him's doorway, not quite wanting to step inside his toaster oven of an office.**

**"_Have a seat,_" he stretched out his claw, which had grown smaller over the years. Butch sat down accordingly, and took in his second father. Unlike Mojo Jojo, who had aged over the years and showed some grey in his fur, Him was ageless. His skin was just as taut, and just as red.**

**"_Who is Bianca, Butch?_" Him asked, out of nowhere, catching Butch off guard. **

**"What do you mean?"**

**"_By your reaction, it seems she means a lot. Enough for you to betray your _family_,_" Him accused.**

**"What? No!"**

**"_Seems to me that you'd throw away everything we've worked for, for this…_girl_,_" Him nearly choked on the last word. **

**Butch sat up in his chair, "That's not true!"**

**"_You care for us more than her?_" **

**Butch weighed his options briefly, "…Of course!" **

**"_Then never speak to her again,_" he said simply.**

**"I…what?"**

**"_Never speak to her again!_"**

So he ignored her—not that it was hard to, she was already avoiding him. He knew why, of course, and in all honesty he felt really bad about it. But he was more afraid of Him than he was concerned about Bianca's feelings. Butch had seen what happened to Brick after the Princess disaster, and what's happening to Boomer right now.

_It's not being wimpy. It's being smart._

He didn't like being smart very much. Besides, he hadn't had a lesson in _months_ and his fear of water was creeping back on to him. At times he almost felt he could only feel safe going into water if Bianca was there. Until he could overcome his fear completely, Him had total control over him and what Him says, goes.

A slight knock on his door brought him back to reality, "Did you forget something?" he asked, assuming it was the same girl—whose name he didn't even remember.

"No…it's Belle,"

"Oh…what do you need?"

She giggled softly, "I need to clean your room,"

_Oh right._ He looked around—his room _was_ pretty dirty.

"Can I come in?" she asked, even though she was already turning the handle.

"Yeah, sure,"

She stepped inside, her hair up in its usual cleaning bun, and she frowned slightly before turning on the light. He squinted, "I like it better off,"

"I know you do. I clean better with it on," she smiled. At times Belle reminded him of Bianca, though Belle was significantly nicer, "She was pretty," she commented.

"Who? Oh, yeah," he shrugged.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing…?"

_She must have a sixth sense or something._ He thought, considering the fact that she always seemed to know when one of them was bothered by something, because nobody else the three boys knew—besides maybe Mojo Jojo—could tell their _emotions_.

She popped her hip and placed one hand on it, the other hand holding her cleaning supplies.

Instead of responding, he walked passed her and stood in his doorway, "Is there breakfast?" he asked, changing the subject.

She sighed, "Yes, there is. It might be a little cold though,"

"I'll just pop it in the microwave or something,"

"That'd be fine…Butch?" she asked, just as he was about to leave, "Don't let fear stand in the way of your desires,"

He didn't say anything, he didn't know what to say. So instead of responding, he nodded, and shut the door behind him, not sure what to do next.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Going a whole WEEK without updating was frightening, and I'll do my absolute best to make sure it never ever happens again! I hope this chapter was worth the wait, if not, I'll hang my head in shame and make the next chapter a bajillion (its a number, trust me) times better. <strong>

**Also, for this update's shout outs, I'm responding to non-new reviewers too (As a special treat for not posting in FOREVA)**

**MilitaryBratUsa- Thank you! **

**Justadreamer15- Thanks :)**

**Kiserchild94- Haha, I know I get frustrated sometimes, and I'm _writing_ him! I'm not going to spoil anything but let me just say the 'AHA' _may_ or _may_ not be pleasant. And thanks again for drawing them, that's really awesome of you. **

**Afnan- Haha don't apologize, I was just solidifying the fact that I'm not going anywhere :)! I'm glad you like it.**

**Fiya- Here's a bit of Greens for you, although its just Butch and stuff :P Haha, it was her trying to 'get close' to Brick. I'm glad I am :D! **Thanks for reviewing both haha and yeah Boomer's a bit different at age 23 :P Hope you like this chapter too!****

**1000GreenSun- As usual, I _love_ your long and informative reviews, it's really awesome that you say exactly what you like. Heehee thanks, I try to make it good :P!**

**Grimlock King Of Stories- Slowly but surely :)**

**TomboyIsAwesome- But I _DO_ have a laptop! Just a crappy charger :(**

**cartoonlover03- haha :)**

**fearlessgurl101- I do feel a bit mean for making Princess pick on Boomer! LOL. And yep Bubbles is "The Boomer Whisperer" **

**Joydream- Thank you sooo much! Hehe I try to update quick :)**

**_: I do my best to even out the romantic bits :)**

**donthatemekusimhot: I'm a fan of Bubbles too! Like I said, I do my best to even out the romantic parts.**

**_: I'm not quite sure what you mean!**

**amythist7- Thanks for reviewing those chapters! They were getting lonely, lol! And I haven't gone into _full_ detail about Butch and his fear of water, but be sure it's a definite plot line. I'm glad you like my story! **


	46. Music

**Brick.**

Brick had known Beatrice for a while now, it wouldn't be crazy of him to say he liked her a little more than just friends. In fact, that kiss proved it. But something was itching at the back of his mind, something he couldn't quite place. His fingers strummed aimlessly on his guitar, creating a soothing sound. He was floating above his bed, wearing simply his boxers. Across his left shoulder was a deep white scar, something Chemical X had yet to get rid of—something _she_ had left behind. Even though it had been nearly ten years, Brick couldn't bring himself to say her name.

He was slightly surprised to find out he still knew how to play guitar—it was something he learned about eight years ago, but stopped doing five years ago, simply because there wasn't enough time anymore. And, if he were honest, singing brought her up too much.

It was about two in the morning, and he was grateful his room was sound proof, or else Boomer would surely be slamming on the wall.

"_Haven't seen you, in a long, long while. It's so nice, so nice to see you smile. 'Cause I know it's been hard, I know I've left you scarred, but it's been breaking my heart, us being apart_," Brick wasn't really paying attention to what he was singing, he was merely matching the tune he was playing on his guitar. It was late, and he wasn't really focused—he was practically half asleep. The words he sang came from his deep subconscious.

_Beatrice tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for Boomer to show up so she could start her job. Out of the whole time she had been working for Boomer, he had showed up about a quarter of the time. _

_"He's not coming in today," a more awake Brick said, standing in the doorway of the office._

_"Again?"_

_He smiled, "He's not cut out for work. To be honest, he doesn't really have to,"_

_She shot him a confused look, "He's doing enough by marrying Princess,"_

_"He doesn't want to?" she tested._

_"Do you know Princess?"_

_"Somewhat…" she said carefully._

_Brick laughed and crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow, "Would you want to marry her?"_

_She threw her head back and laughed, "Good point," Brick couldn't help but noticed how perfect her laugh was. He sat down beside her and looked into her moss green eyes as her smile softly faded._

_Beatrice looked at Brick happily as his features changed, while her eyes did the same._

_"Your eyes are pink…" he said slowly. Beatrice quickly lifted her hand up to her eye, as if by touching it she would see what he saw. Brick's face went from blissful to absolute rage, "How did I not see this before?"_

_"Brick…" she began, softly. But soon she too changed emotions—all her pent up anger that has had 10 years to stew, began to show, "Go ahead, kill me, I'll just keep coming back!" she screamed. His arms wrapped around her neck. _

_"You lied to me!" he screamed, as her hands wrapped around his neck._

_"You killed me!"_

Brick woke up in a panicked sweat, shooting out of his bed, literally. He calmed down and floated back down and sat on his bed, trying his best to remember his dream. He wasn't sure of the details, but he knew it wasn't pretty.

_Must have been gory or something…_He thought, as he rubbed his neck, which suddenly felt painful.

Brick had promised Beatrice he would get more sleep—but he was positive that falling back asleep tonight was no longer positive.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: It's short, yeees, but, I don't have as much time to write as I did! It's not writers block, I swear, I just got a job :3! Teehee. I'm going on a train tomorrow so that'll give me some writing time :)! Thanks for all your lovely reviews, and next chapter will also be a reds.<strong>

**kadienbergw- I'M SO SORRY! I sweear I thought I left one for you! Thank you so much for your reviews and I hope you still read my story D:**

**kbomb234- heehee I'm glad you liked it! YUP Bubbles is pretty good with calming him ;)**

**MC- Haha it's not writer's block, it's time! When I have writers block I can't write anything. A sample of me with writers block:**

_**So he took her hand, and he said to her "Yeah, I love you,"**_

_**And she was like, "Yeah? Me too," And they kissed really nicely.**_

**No lie.**

**babyflowers- THANKS :)**

**I LOVE MY REVIEWERS :) **


	47. Tapes

_Blossom crossed her arms angrily while Brick stuck her tongue out at her._

_"We can do this the easy way, or—,"_

_"You know I like it the hard way," he said with a wink, before flying off. She shook her head, slightly amused, before flying after him._

_Brick's face dropped as he found out who his partner for the science project was—why was he in school anyways?_

"I do not want my boys to be seen as idiots which is what you are seen as now otherwise I would not have told you to go to school. Those Powerpuff Girls are so smart and you three are not at all therefore you lose every fight because the girls are smart and you are not,"

_Right. He read the list again, and again, making sure he wasn't seeing things._

_"Oh, stop being so dramatic," an thirteen year old Blossom said, her arms crossed, "As though I want to be _your_ partner anymore than you want to be mine,"_

_Brick didn't respond, there was only one thing on his mind—Blossom was wearing makeup._

_"Hello? You better do your part in this project. I don't want anything lower than an A," She stalked off, her ponytail swinging behind her. He was suddenly tempted to go steal something, just to get a chance to talk to her again._

_..._

_Butch smirked as he sat in the tree, waiting for the moment Brute took her top off. Yeah, he was a pervert—but it's not as though he wasn't raised that day._

_"Here it comes…" he said under his breath. Brute reached under and began to pull it off—he was at the edge of his "seat" so to speak. When suddenly, a green flashed and he was knocked to the ground. A brief moment of terror flew through him as he considered the possibility that he had been caught and was facing the fight of a life time._

_"Perv," the voice was most definitely _not_ Brute, but rather, worse._

_"Buttercup, what are you, stalking me?"_

_"I live around the corner you dipshit,"_

_"Oh,"_

_She stood up and held her hand out for him, which he took after some hesistation, worried she would flip him over._

_He hadn't seen Buttercup all summer, he couldn't help it. He couldn't help checking her out, and he couldn't help but notice her new…_developments_. She noticed, of course, and immediately knocked his lights out. He didn't mind._

_..._

_"I didn't know you knew how to read," Bubbles said, not intentionally cruel._

_"Well, I do, so please be quiet," Boomer responded, returning back to his book. Being in the library reading was his only time to himself. He didn't take too kindly to interruptions, not even from people as pretty as Bubbles._

_The silence lasted only a few moments, "Whatch'ya reading?"_

_He sighed, "Wild Fang by Jack London,"_

_"Oh! I know that book. Have you read Call of The Wild?" He smiled and responded with a nod._

_"What part are you at?"_

_Boomer decided he would read her the exact passage he was at, "_**In order to face the constant danger of hurt and even of destruction, his predatory and protective faculties were unduly developed. He became quicker of movement than the other dogs, swifter of foot, craftier, deadlier, more lithe, more lean with ironlike muscle and sinew, more enduring, more cruel, more ferocious, and more intelligent. He had to become all these things, else he would not have held his own nor survived the hostile environment in which he found himself**."

_..._

_The two redheads worked on their project at separate parts of the room, "You know, I'm not so sure this will work," Brick said._

_"What do you mean? It's perfect,"_

_"I mean," he said, getting up and holding his textbook in his hands, "look at what it says there," he said, leaning over her and pointing to a part in his book, enjoying the smell of her perfume a little too much._

Him clicked the tape off, sinking lower into his tub.

"_You know, Mr. Quackers, it was at _that_ moment that I decided they had to die,"_ Him said maliciously to his rubber duck, before squeezing the duck's response.

"_I am aware, yes,"_ Him responded, squeezing the duck again.

"_I am preparing my plan, of course!_" Him said, amused, "_I could send the androids on them,"_

Him squeezed the duck.

"_You're right…hmm…it _would_ be more fun to have them fight again. What a show that would be!_" he said with a giggle, "_Why don't we watch my favourite home video?_" as Him spoke, the screen changed to a peaceful Townsville, "_I _hate_ this part,_" with that, the screen fast forwarded to the start of a horrific battle scene.

_"Give it up, RowdyRuffs!" Called out a pre-pubescent Blossom. Brick laughed obnoxiously, trying a little too hard, while Butch twitched in his spot, eager to get started._

_"Fine," called an older looking Buttercup—she had…developed faster than her sisters. The fight broke out the way it normally did, with the two teams reaching a stale mate. This was around the time the RowdyRuff Boys would create a diversion before escaping, but Him had other plans._

_"**No. Continue,**" Him spoke to the boys directly._

_"What? Why?" Boomer asked._

_"**We aren't finished yet**," so the boys shrugged and continued the fight, only to lead to another stale mate. It was at this point that Him decided he would help out. In seconds, a black mist surrounded the PowerPuff Girls. As soon as it was there, it disappeared, but the damage had been done. They still had their powers, but they no longer had their invulnerability. It was his own, special concoction, a variation on Antidote X. This way, the girls had no idea what was next._

_When they were on the floor bleeding, the toughest of them refusing to fall, Him ordered his boys to kill them. Him saw the look of hesitation in his 'sons' eyes, especially the youngest. But in the end, his persuastion tactics had worked, and the girls were out of his hair forever._

"**_Or so I thought. _**_There is just no getting rid of those irritating girls. I'll have to find out how they came back the first time around,"_

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Teehee. I hope I captured Him alright. You know, sometimes I want to update slowly just to accumulate more reviews and whatnot but I just can't maintain myself long enough :$!<strong>

**PS 1000GreenSun's review reminded me to let you guys know there is a bit of a preview on my profile ;) check it out!**

**AnimePrincess19- Aw! Welcome to the 'Return Club' (the title is a work in progress...) I'm so glad you liked my story enough to stick it out through 46 chapters! Bahaha oh you'll see ;)**

**Constant reviewers make my heart swell :)! It's always nice to hear opinions!**

**If I missed any new reviewers, feel free to yell at me in the reviews and I will change it immediately ! You guys are awesome btw!**


	48. Practice

~Bubbles~

The boys were close, but awkwardly so. As much as three boys _could_ be close, at least. Neither one of the triplets was entirely aware of the other's feelings; though they knew something was up. Obviously they wouldn't dare ask the other what was going on inside their head. If she were honest, watching them step around each other delicately was slightly amusing.

Boomer was to ask Princess to marry her in two months, coinciding with the official synergy of Morbucks and RRB—to the public eye. But to Beatrice, Bianca and Belle—that proposal signified the start of a deadly project.

Belle felt her panic rise—she knew that once he proposed to Princess anything she did from then on to try and get close to him would be useless.

_"While I can,"_ He had said, and the both of them knew what that meant. Once Princess was fully in the picture, it would be bye-bye Belle. Brick and Butch had insinuated that she would be taken care of nonetheless, but none of the triplets were pleased with what was to happen. They had all grown close to Belle, trusting her with small pieces of information every so often.

But she knew the person she needed to focus on the most was Boomer—as Brick and Butch were taken care of, and more could be achieved if each sister took on a boy, rather than one taking on all three. Her fingers tapped aimlessly on her computer, unsure of what she wanted to do next.

She had finished her cleaning early—it was a lot easier to finish her chores for the day, now that her powers were slowly coming back. When she found the time to (usually when she was at home by herself), she would test herself, too see how far she could go, which powers were coming back. Belle had yet to tell her sisters about the return of her powers—she wasn't sure if this was a permanent happening, and she didn't want to raise their hopes, or, rather, have her hopes crushed publicly.

To hear '_Oh, Belle, it'll be okay_. _But we knew it wouldn't last. Don't blame yourself,_' would kill her. She hated being babied—even though at times in the past she used to act like one. She was stronger now—years apart, and years spent in hiding have hardened her, strengthened her. Seeing her father sacrifice everything just so the three of them may continue on living caused something inside of her to change. To see the cruelty in the world, the cruelty in the people living on it, after living so many years in her protective bubble had somehow taken her innocence. She was still optimistic, but no longer naïve. She could take care of herself—she had to learn how to, after all.

_There's no point in getting mad at them for babying you, Belle. They haven't seen you in seven years. It's only natural that they fall back into old habits. _

The anniversary of their death was creeping up, though still a safe distance away. It didn't feel as colossal as it used to, now that the three of them had become aware of the other's existence for the first time in seven years. Belle wondered if her sisters did something to acknowledge the years since that terrible day. She didn't think so. She sighed and closed her eyes, letting her fingers type without her dictation on her computer. When she opened them, she smiled.

**Hola,****mi nombre es****Belle.**

**Kon'nichiwa, watashi no namae wa Belle.**

**Ni hao, wo de mingzi shi Belle**

**Ola,****meu nome e Belle.**

It had strained her, even if it was only four different languages when at one point she knew nearly all of them. But it was progress. It was proof that her powers weren't going away anytime soon. The front door opened quietly—something she was sure she wouldn't have heard had she not had her powers back. The shuffling footsteps were unmistakably Boomer's, and she blushed at how easily she could tell him apart. She placed her delicate hand on her door handle, ready to go strengthen her relationship with Boomer when she heard another pair of footsteps—that clacked awkwardly in heels she guessed were much too tall to walk in. She pressed her ear against her door, desperately wishing she had x-ray vision, too.

The person in heels giggled, and Belle felt her skin bristle at the sound of the person's laughter.

"You know if you weren't so cute I might be disgusted with the mess in your house," the words were cruel but she said them as though she were flirting. Boomer responded with a small 'heh' and Belle imagined him smiling his soft smile she rarely saw. She sank to the floor softly, her ear still against the door, desperately trying to see through the door.

"You really should do something about that terrible maid of yours," Belle knew very well that she was the best at her work, "If I didn't know better it almost seems as though the only reason you hired her was because of her looks," now Princess didn't sound so flirty.

"Don't be ridiculous," he responded softly.

"You're right. The bottom of my shoe is more attractive," she sounded pleased. Belle felt as though she had been slapped numerous times, "Right, Boomie? You think I'm prettier, don't you?" Princess sounded as though she was speaking to a child, rather than a grown man.

"Of course," Belle thought his voice sounded strained, and she felt her hopes rise. That was before the sound of them kissing trailed in through her doorway, and a dark voice inside of her told her she had imagined it. She wanted to leave—she felt rude intruding on their intimate moment, so she knew she couldn't exit through the front door, nor could she risk being seen flying out of her window. So she walked back to her bed and buried her head under her pillow, desperately trying to understand if everything Boomer had told her a few nights ago was a lie.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: If you guys leave long reviews, I'll update thrice more :D! Today! Teehee. You guys rock though, seriously :) By popular request-greens is next. And I literally mean GREENS. not just one of them ;). Thank you for sticking it out forty eight chapters :D I just love writing this and everytime I think about ending it I get all teary eyed. It's rare for me to stick with a story for so long.<strong>

**ravenblackbunny- Thank you so much :)! And a late review is better than no review at all!**

**If you are a new reviewer and I didn't leave you a shout out because I thought you weren't a new reviewer, feel free to yell at me and I'll be sure to leave you a long shout out :D! **


	49. Code

**Author's Note: I know I said Greens were next, but I heard a lot of you wanted longer chapters. In order for me to make the Greens longer, this needed to be put up. The Greens is almost done !**

* * *

><p>~Bubbles~<p>

Even though she was asked to keep her distance, Belle couldn't help but repeatedly visit the only sister she could visit—Bianca. She spent two full days of the week at _Chez_, basically loitering.

"Belle! Bon retour!" Madame DeFranc said, slightly sarcastically as Belle walked in. She didn't buy much—mostly ice tea and the rare sandwich. Over the weeks Belle had developed a rather close friendship with Eric—the boy she thought was cute, much to Bianca's dismay.

"How can I help you? Are you feeling hungry? Things are slow today. Going slow, at least," Bianca said, once Eric had led Belle to her seat. To the naked ear, it just sounded as though Bianca had trouble forming sentences, but rather the two had developed a secret code, "_How are things going?_" was what she really said.

"_Not well_," she responded.

"_Why?_"

"_Difficult getting on his good side,_"

"_At least you talk to him. I haven't heard from_," at this point she coughed, "_In months,_"

"_There are deeper problems than you realize,_" she responded, still speaking in code.

Bianca sighed and shook her head, "_Try jealousy_," she said, and it took Belle a little while to figure out what she meant. Bianca didn't need to take her order—it was the same every time she came by. When Katie dropped off her drink, it suddenly hit Belle as Eric walked by.

_Ohhh…_she thought, as a sly smile creeped on to her face.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: It's short but it was necessary. I'll leave shoutouts at the end of the Greens :)<strong>


	50. Enemy

~Buttercup~

Bianca hadn't been doing her part in the plan. Instead of getting close to Butch, like Bubb—_Belle_ was assumed to be doing with Boomer, and Beatrice was apparently failing at with Brick, Bianca had been _avoiding_ Butch.

_I don't want to know what happened that night._

Time and time again she had gone back to that night, and did her best to try and remember what happened after they had gone on the roof. Each time, her memory turned into a black abyss, nothing tugging at her to remind her what had happened. She refused to let herself believe that she had slept with him—it was so out of her character, even if all signs pointed to it.

_There's no way I'm asking Butch about it…not like he cares._

She hadn't heard from him since that night…well, that was a lie. She _had_ heard from him, but not directly.

_Prick._

Over the past two months, the RRB Corp. kept raising the rent cost in order to keep _Chez_ open. They had always pulled through, of course, it was a popular restaurant—but that meant smaller pays for everyone working there. None of the workers quit, they'd be out of a job, but it was still a struggle to get by.

"Bianca! Zat is zee ninth time you 'ave zoned out! Table four!"

"Right, sorry Madame," she jumped to action, grabbing the plate and drink and walking over to table six. She nearly turned back around when she saw who was sitting there, but it was too late, he had already seen her.

_Of course. I'm such an idiot. I'm holding a cheeseburger, salad, and waters._

Seeing Butch sitting in the booth, with three blondes fawning over him set a new fire ablaze inside Bianca.

"Thanks," he said simply, not even addressing or looking at her. Instead of looking up when she didn't leave, he leaned over to the girl to his left and started making out with her. She wasn't sure _what_ she expected, but it wasn't this.

"Um, Butchie-boo, she's still here," the girl to his right said. She had blonde, curly hair and big green eyes. Her chest was larger than Bianca's, and her lips were poutier. She suddenly felt inadequate.

He looked up from the girl, whose face was now windblown, "Can I help you?" he said. Her eyes searched his face, desperately trying to find an answer to his behaviour. That was all the proof she needed of what they had done that night. It was completely in his character to twist a girl in his lies, and then dump her after he had gotten what he wanted. Her jaw tightened and it was all she could do to keep from growling.

"No, not at all," she turned around, and tried to contain her anger.

_Who cares? He's just Butch! You're not mad because he _played_ you, you're mad because now it'll be harder to do your part! Right?_

She stormed through the kitchen doors and went to go get a refill for table three, all the while her mind roaring with anger. Bianca never let herself fall. She'd gone by her life, staying out of love—keeping her distance and a cool head when it came to things like that. Bianca had never felt heartbreak, because she avoided it quite well—she knew enough that it was not pleasant, and could be prevented if you used your head.

She had never liked the word 'love' and did her best to avoid using it. Some may see it as cold, but she saw it as genius. She was guaranteed a safe heart.

_Moron. _Beatrice was right—they were getting too close to the boys, and the boys weren't getting close enough. Though she had no idea how she could acquire information from someone who refused to acknowledge her existence.

_He just makes me so angry! _She thought, with a growl. Bianca felt so enraged she was almost certain it was radiating off her in heat waves. _Wait…it really _does_ feel like it's radiating off of me._ When she looked down at the glass in her hand, she realized it was no longer in her hands. But rather, a small puddle on the floor.

…

"Eef I didn't know any better, Bianca, I would almost say you are avoiding me,"

Bianca smiled. Madame DeFranc always knew what was wrong, and she always knew when Bianca was avoiding the subject.

"Honestly, I really just want to walk," Madame DeFranc rolled her eyes.

"You will 'ave to address ze problem at one point!" she called lightly, as she drove off. Bianca turned her regular corner and she felt her skin bubble.

"Bianca," he said.

"Oh, now you recognize me? Fuck off," she turned her heels and decided she would walk home the long way.

_Telling Madame what was wrong would have been ten times less painful than running into Butch._

He sighed, "Wait,"

It took everything she had not to stop walking.

"Bianca," he repeated, slightly louder.

She jerked her hand out of his grasp, surprising both of them at how easily she was able to escape from his death grip. She took a shuddering sigh and decided to give him her attention.

"You have two minutes,"

He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but shut it quickly after. He did this about three times.

She rolled her eyes, "Times up," she turned on her heels and continued walking home.

"Please," he called lightly. She felt guilt running through her veins at his voice.

"No," she said strongly, "I should be the one saying please. As in," she took a breath, "Please just leave me alone. Stop playing your games with me, stop trying to get me in bed…_again_," she added, slightly shuddering, "Stop ignoring me for months after pursing me like crazy, and then coming back and apologizing. Because I fell for it once, but I will _not_ fall for it again," he looked taken aback, and she was about to turn around when he started speaking.

"We didn't…" he gulped, "We didn't have sex," he repeated, as if he suddenly found his voice.

Bianca felt her face turn red, "Nonetheless," she said quietly, no longer looking him in the eyes. Suddenly he was at her side.

"I know you don't want to hear my apologies," he said, "but you don't understand. I've never met a girl like you before-," he said, slightly quieter.

"Don't throw me clichés," she interrupted, with a roll of her eyes.

"Let me finish," he said, with a small urgency, "I've never met a girl like you before. I've never met someone I wanted to risk it all for. I've never met someone who made me hurt, who was constantly on my mind,"

She didn't expect this.

"I'm not supposed to talk to you, but I can't keep away. I tried to forget about you, I really did. But I can't. It's like you're imprinted on my mind," he tapped the side of his head rapidly, his words fast and quiet.

She ignored almost everything he said, not wanting to address it, "Why are you not supposed to talk to me?" She wanted to know, but she signed it off as finding information.

He waved his hand absentmindedly, "You're a distraction, or something. Dangerous, whatever,"

"According to who?" she pressed.

"My adoptive father. He wants me focusing on the task at hand, whatever that is,"

"You don't know?"

"Brick usually is told those kinds of things. Why do you care?" he said. Her eyes moved from side to side as she tried to think of what to say next. When nothing came, she acted on her impulse.

She slammed her lips against his and when she felt his body relax, she knew she had chosen correctly. Bianca wrapped her arms around his neck, and he put his hand in the small of her back, pulling her closer. His other hand wrapped up in her hair.

She had kissed before, but never quite so passionately, almost as though she was taking all her pent up anger and putting it in the kiss, and he was doing the same. Their tongues moved around each other in synchronization, never missing a beat.

_He's a good kisser…bet I'm better than that other girl._

Bianca felt her heart quicken, and it was then that was when she decided to pull away. He looked windblown, and she nearly smirked.

"Unexpected," he said, slowly, "but not unwanted," he said with a wink. She blushed.

"I have to go home now,"

"You sure you don't want to come home with me?" he said suggestively. She responded by punching him lightly.

"Shut up,"

"You know, technically you're still my swimming teacher, and technically we have a class soon,"

"Still? You've missed over ten classes," his smirk dropped slightly at the mention of his absence, "Fine," she said quickly, to change the mood. They said their good-byes and walked their separate ways—or rather, Butch flew. It was the sight of him flying that reminded Bianca what had happened earlier that day in the kitchen, as she brushed it off to her imagination.

Maybe safe isn't always better.

A soft voice said to her, matching the words with the face of a certain emerald eyed, raven-haired boy. It was soon replaced by _enemy_, because that's what they were. Enemies—though he didn't know it yet. She was foolish to ever see him as anything besides something that was created solely to destroy her. She scoffed, _He may not know who I am, but subconsciously he must. We are each other's foils—it can't be helped. He is my counterpart, there's no going around it. When the time comes, either he will die or I will—again._

**_ "I've never met a girl like you before,"_**

_Stop. _

**_"I don't get to choose, Bianca,"_**

_Stop it._

**_"I wish it was as simple as sitting here, with you, watching the sun come up,"_**

_Enemy, enemy, ENEMY!_

But she could hardly see him like that anymore.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Hope that was enough for you green fans :)! LOL I was wondering why nobody review this chapter, then I realized i didn't post it...:$<strong>

**Those long reviews you guys left were awesome :3 ! Perhaps if you do the same I shall continue my serial updates :[D**

**I'd just like to leave a special thanks to amythist7 for her trek through my chapters and reviewing each one :) ! Now that's what I call dedication x)!**

**loveedwrdanbella - LOL I dunno, will heeee ;) ? Thanks for reviewing :D! I'm actually not sure if you've reviewed before or not D:**

**love my reviewers 3**


	51. Failed Warnings

~Blossom~

"I don't know, Bubbles. I can't wait until summer ends,"

"Blossom. Can you please stop talking about how excited you are for high school? It's July!"

Blossom blushed, "Sorry, I'll try and contain my excitement,"

"I'm worried. What if I don't make any friends?" Bubbles asked, twirling her hair between her fingers.

Blossom couldn't help but laugh, "Don't be ridiculous. You'll make friends within the first hour,"

"Speaking of, I have to go—I promised Mitch I'd play soccer with him," and in a green flash she was gone.

"How long before she realizes he has a crush on her?" Bubbles said, a sly tone to her voice.

"Ten years," Blossom said with a giggle.

"I'm going to the mall, did you want to come?"

"I think I'll stay at the park a little longer," Bubbles shrugged and flew off, leaving Blossom alone on the swings. As excited as she was to start a new life, she couldn't help but admit that she was slightly worried at leaving her childhood behind.

"Hello Possum," Blossom rolled her eyes at the irritatingly familiar voice.

"Call me that one more time and I'll make sure you have trouble saying anything for the next couple of days," she said without looking at him.

She could feel his smirk, "Is that a _challenge_?"

"Hardly," she said.

His smile faltered and she wasn't sure why, but decided she wasn't going to question him, "Hiding from Princess?" she offered. Princess's attention to Brick had returned with the start of grade eight, and at the sign of his light blush, she realized she was correct.

"She just can't take a hint,"

"Tell me about it," she thought with a light eye roll, thinking back to Princess's persistence at becoming a PowerPuffGirl. It stopped shortly after she gained her own popularity.

"I need to tell you something," he said quickly, suddenly in a rush.

She looked at him with confused eyes, "What?" she prodded.

Ever since Brick and Blossom teamed up to work together on a project, Brick had begun to act significantly nicer towards her. The crimes hadn't stopped, of course, but when she wasn't defending the world and he wasn't trying to destroy it, the two of them could just talk as if nothing was wrong.

_Why does my arch nemesis have to be a boy?_

"What's bugging you?" he asked.

"_That's_ what you wanted to ask me?"

"Not exactly…but you might as well tell me first,"

"What are you avoiding?" she narrowed her eyes.

"What's on your mind, Red?" he seemed exasperated.

"Is it really so difficult to call me Blossom?"

"Too long," he teased.

"Do you really care to know?"

"Got nothing better to do," he said with a shrug. It slightly hurt Blossom.

"Just thinking about next year," this seemed to nerve him, as he stiffened slightly.

"What about it?" he asked slowly.

"I don't know. I suppose I'm excited for it,"

This seemed to upset him, but he didn't interrupt her.

"I mean, it's something I've been looking forward to for about two years. Just to be in those halls, to narrow down what I _really_ want to learn,"

Again, this seemed to upset him.

"But I'm worried—I'm worried my sisters and I won't have any of the same classes together, and I won't make any friends…" she trailed off, realizing who she was entrusting with her deepest feelings, "or something," she added quickly.

"I wouldn't worry," he said after some silence, "you'll make friends. Hell, you might even have a…you know," the words seemed to strain him.

"Thanks," she smiled, "what did you need to tell me?"

"You'll find out soon enough," he said guiltly, and he flew off, leaving Blossom to look after him, her face twisted in confusion.

…  
><strong>Brick<strong>

He knew he wasn't supposed to. He knew he'd get the _shit_ beat out of him, but he had to. He had to find her, and he had to tell her to run, and not to look back. He had been flying all over TownsVille, desperately trying to find her so he could tell her that she had to go. It was up to him—Him had told him the full extent of his plan, and had told Brick not to say a word. This was a test of his loyalty, and Brick knew it. But to see her gone? He couldn't have that, no matter what happened to him.

He saw her at the park, and decided he would fly a short distance away and walk towards her, because he noticed her sisters were with her. He couldn't tell all three of them at once. He started walking towards her once Bubbles flew off, taking care to make quiet steps in the gravel.

He sat down in the swing next to her, "Hello Possum," his heart ached at the sight of her eye roll, knowing it would be a long while before he could see it again.

"Call me that one more time and I'll make sure you have trouble saying anything for the next couple of days," she said without looking at him. 

He smirked_,_ "Is that a _challenge_?"

"Hardly," she said.

_That is so like her._ He thought, his smile suddenly falling from his face, _How am I supposed to tell her? She'll never believe me._

"Hiding from Princess?" she offered. He was grateful at her quick change of subject. She didn't want to stop talking to him either. He decided he would go with her suggestion.

"She just can't take a hint," he said jokingly.

"Tell me about it," she thought with a light eye roll, and Brick realized he would never tire of her rolling her eyes at him.

"I need to tell you something," he said quickly, suddenly in a rush.

_Idiot. Why didn't you think that through? She'll think it's a trap. She'll never go for it._

She looked at him with confused eyes, "What?" she prodded.

_Why does my arch nemesis have to be a cute girl? I can't tell her. I just can't. I'll have to work around it, or something._

"What's bugging you?" he had noticed she seemed pensive, and decided he would rather hear about her problems than tell her his.

"_That's_ what you wanted to ask me?"

"Not exactly…but you might as well tell me first,"

"What are you avoiding?" she narrowed her eyes.

_Damn you for being so sharp._

"What's on your mind, Red?"

"Is it really so difficult to call me Blossom?"

"Too long," he teased.

"Do you really care to know?"

"Got nothing better to do," he lied, shrugging. Too much interest is dangerous.

"Just thinking about next year,"

_No. Don't. Don't think about next year, please. _

"What about it?" he asked slowly.

"I don't know. I suppose I'm excited for it,"

_You couldn't have said anything worse. You're killing me, Blossom. Or rather…_

"I mean, it's something I've been looking forward to for about two years. Just to be in those halls, to narrow down what I _really_ want to learn,"

_I hate myself._

"But I'm worried—I'm worried my sisters and I won't have any of the same classes together, and I won't make any friends…" she trailed off, realizing who she was entrusting with her deepest feelings, "or something," she added quickly.

_This is it. You have to tell her. She has to run. Go to a different town. So she can go to high school and see that making friends isn't going to be hard for her._

"I wouldn't worry," he said after some silence, "you'll make friends. Hell, you might even have a…you know," he couldn't bring himself to say boyfriend.

_It feels like I'm talking to her at her death bed._

"Thanks," she smiled, and he was dazed for a moment. Until she spoke again, "What did you need to tell me?"

"You'll find out soon enough," he said guiltily, and he flew off, unable to tell Blossom of her umpending doom.

_I'll figure it out somehow…_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: FLASHBACKS...well, not really. The characters aren't having the flashbacks, it's me going back in time and recording it...if that makes sense.<strong>

**I hurd u guies liked seeing da boys being sweet to da gurls b4 their death nd stuff.**

**BRUTAL GRAMMAR^ malfuctio-mal-malf**

**Lool. I'm weird.**

**PPG x RRB 4EVER- I'm almost positive you're a new reviewer..CURSE MY MEMORY! Aw, thanks so much :) I'm glad you like it!**


	52. Many Happenings

**Brick.**

The burden of being the oldest is knowing the truth. Having to keep things from your younger siblings who just weren't ready to know yet. The responsibility of it all. The guilt.

It was cowardly of him, but he did it to defend his brothers and himself. Sometimes there was just no arguing—but he always knew the truth, while his brothers were kept in the dark.

That was why Him wasn't worried that Brick was spending too much time with Beatrice. That was why Him didn't get too angry when Brick broke Princess's heart. Brick was told Him's top most secrets—things even Mojo, Him's partner in crime, didn't know. It made Brick sick that Him knew he could be trusted, that he wouldn't do anything about it.

After training that night, Brick had been asked to stay behind. He knew it was because he didn't want to sign the contracts that allowed Him to release deadly androids to destroy nearly everyone.

**"_Has my favourite gone soft on me?_"**

**"It's not going soft. I don't think it's a good idea,"**

**"_Afraid someone you have your eye on is going to get hurt?_" he teased, knowing that Brick was afraid for Beatrice's sake, "_Don't you trust her at all?_"**

**"I trust her enough,"**

**"_But not to think that she isn't committing treason?_"**

**Brick wasn't going to lie—he knew there wasn't anyone on the world with a shred of good in them that approved of the RRB Corp.**

**"_You are aware that I'm going to through with the project anyway?_"**

**Brick nodded. He had hoped his protests would have done something to sway Him from this crazy idea, but it went no better than when Brick asked to allow the PowerPuff Girls to live. **

**In fact, he was certain it was going to go worse.**

He rubbed his wound. Brick was always one to hide his pain completely. Not that his brothers went around bawling their eyes out at an injury, of course. But the other two usually knew that they were injured—either by hearing about it, predicting it, or seeing it.

Nobody ever knew about Brick's pain.

**_For your own good. Wouldn't want you to get any ideas._**

Brick scoffed. One day, he was going to do something about Him. Just not today.

…

**Boomer.  
><strong>Boomer rubbed his head as he walked in through the front door; Princess had been an absolute menace today. He had no idea how he would last the rest of his life with her. However, his thoughts of suicide were interrupted at the sight of Belle cleaning in the kitchen. With her in his life—however receding that may be—suicide was not an option.

"Hey Belle," he said, deciding that today he would make an extra effort to be nice to her, if only to make himself feel better by listening to her make anything sound better.

She giggled, one hand absentmindedly wiping the counter, the other holding her blackberry, as she clicked in a response.

"Who are you talking to?" He asked, taking care to make himself sound completely disinterested, and not hurt by her ignoring him.

"Hmm?" She said, looking up, her smile fading slightly at the sight of him, "Oh, just a friend,"

_Boy or girl? _Suddenly he needed to know.

"Belle has a boyfriend?" he teased.

"Oh," she blushed.

_Not the reaction I wanted._

"Nah...he's just a _friend_," she said, looking back at her now buzzing phone.

_Why does that irritate me so much?_

"Oh, cool," he walked passed her to the fridge, fighting the urge to snatch her phone right out of her hands to see who this 'friend' really was.

_She hardly even knows I'm here!_

He tried to lean over her shoulder inconspicuolously, but instead, ended up face planting.

"Are you alright?" she asked, leaning down and pulling his beer from him, "Maybe you shouldn't have any more of these,"

…

He heard her before he saw her—her soft giggle, eventually leading to seeing her lying back on the couch, her feet dangling over the arm rest.

"You seem in high spirits," he commented, wishing he was the same.

"Huh?" she said, her laughter stopping. She sat up and looked at him in the kitchen over the back of the couch, "Oh, yeah," she smiled politely, her blush fading.

Suddenly he was desperate to know what she was laughing at.

"What's got you so cheerful?"

"Oh, it's just…nothing," she grinned.

"No, come on, tell me," he cracked open his drink.

"Someone told me he thought I was pretty," she blushed again. Boomer felt his anger flare, before dying out quickly.

_She's mine. _He thought angrily, before he realized that no, she wasn't.

"Cute. Who?"

"You wouldn't know him," she said simply, before lying back down on the couch. He felt the urge to create a huge mess, so that she didn't have as much free time tomorrow.

…

He came home disappointed to find the house clean.

"You cleaned up pretty quickly," he said to Belle, who was sitting on the couch, her phone in her lap.

"She always cleans up quickly," Butch said lightly, ruffling her hair. She swatted at his hand.

"I know if I was her, I would clean up quickly too," Brick said with a wink, causing Belle to blush. Boomer suddenly realized he was missing something.

"What?"

"Nothing," Belle said quickly, shooting a dirty look at Brick, "You weren't supposed to say anything!"

He lifted his hands up in apology. Still, no one told Boomer anything.

…

"Oh, Boomer! Just the guy I was looking for!" her voice trailed from her room, "Do you mind if I go out tonight?"

He smirked, _She's trying to make me jealous_, "You know you don't have to ask me to go out," he said, feeling proud he had discovered her.

"No, I know. I just need the key card," his hopes fell.

"Oh. Yeah, sure, I'll give you one. How have we not given you one yet?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his key card, looking up at her. He suddenly lost his voice—he had never seen her so dressed up. Her hair was half up, and significantly curlier. He wondered if she had curled it. Behind her left ear was a white flower, and her face had delicate amounts of makeup on, just the right amount. Not that she needed it. Her blue eyes seemed more defined with the black eyeliner she had lined them with, and her cheeks were considerably rosier.

She was wearing a light blue dress that hugged right underneath her dress before flowing down delicately. Overtop was a white shrug—he felt cold just looking at her.

"How do I look?" she twirled, her dress rising up slightly. He found himself wishing it would go up just a little higher.

"Aren't you going to be cold?" he said, his body stiff.

She walked up to him and took the key card he had pulled out for her, "Oh Boomer," she giggled, "You're like the brother I never had," and walked out.

He wasn't sure why, but those words couldn't have been crueller.

…

~Bubbles~

Belle smiled politely as Eric kissed her on the cheek goodnight, before hopping back in his car and driving back to his home, she assumed. Eric was a perfect gentleman, and funny too. He was everything Belle searched for. If she hadn't been reintroduced to Boomer. She sighed, knowing she should hate him and his brothers.

How could she? When they were really the same as anyone else, save for the fact that they had supernatural powers and evil parents. Of course, Mojo Jojo isn't really all that evil.

She felt like such a girl—to be sympathetic for her sworn enemy. But when she saw Butch's sad longing for a girl he was not allowed to have, or Brick cracking from the pressure of being the oldest, and Boomer's pent up emotions being released the only way he knew how, with anger, she couldn't feel anything but pity for the trio.

She was certain her jealousy tactics with Boomer were working, but instead of feeling excitement, she felt unnecessarily cruel. What would it matter if Boomer liked her enough to tell her his darkest secrets? In the end, he is still betrothed to Princess, and any other woman he shows an interest to causes him heavy pain.

That explains why she suddenly found herself at the notorious Morbucks Mansion.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Hope it was worth the wait. I caught a bad case of writer's block. It wasn't that I didn't know what to write, it just wasn't coming out right. Oh gosh, what do you guys think Bubbles is going to do? There are different POV's because originally they were going to be separate chapters, but I didn't want to hear "LONGER CHAPTERS!" so I gave you guys a lil' gift. Also, next chapter I will be doing a Q&amp;A in the Author's Note or rather a FAQ. If you guys have questions, now is the time to ask them :)!<strong>

**tia467- oh gosh thank you :)**

**rockingroll123- thanks :D**

**kiwi118- a late review is better than no review :)! I'm so glad you like my story, and oh yeah it was relevant ;D**

**Hai- Well I'm glad you liked it ^ here's the jealousy chapter. I sincerely hope it was what you expected, if not better :)**

**bibosk- haha! I love waking up to an email of a review :D! Thank you for your kind words :)**

**If I missed you because I had deja vu, FEEL FREE TO YELL AT ME AND I'LL MAKE IT UP TO YOU :)**

**You guys are so awesome :') **


	53. Ice

~Blossom~

With the reuniting of her sisters and herself, Beatrice found her headaches to have disappeared. She aimlessly wondered if they were in any way connected to the stress of living without her sisters in her life at all. She tied her coat around her waist tightly, the cool November wind rustling her hair to the side.

Brick had asked her to meet him in North Townsville, but he didn't explain as to why. The longer she waited for him, the stupider she felt, and the more her panic would rise.

On the horizon, the sun began to set behind the skyscrapers, and with a chilling fear she realized it would soon be dark in the worst part of the city.

"Bea," a voice called out from behind her, one that she had grown to recognize even in the loudest of surroundings. She had noticed that as time passed, Brick began to grow into the Brick she had known years ago, and that wasn't necessarily a good thing.

Sure, he was no longer as shy and awkward, but that also meant that he was possibly more manipulative and calculating.

She managed a smile, "Hey Brick. So what did you need?" _And why did you need to bring me to North Townsville at dusk to get it?_ She added silently.

"I need…" he paused, as if to find the words, "To make things right," the words felt as though it was causing a heavy struggle inside him. He was wearing his heart on his sleeve, and she could see the conflicting emotions travel across his face.

Should he or shouldn't he?

_Should he what? What is he going to do?_

"Do you trust me?" he said finally.

_Do I?_

"Yes," she said on impulse, slightly surprising both herself and Brick.

"Can I trust you?"

_No_. She thought, but she didn't voice it, "Of course," she said instead, placing her hand on his bicep, "what's this about?"

"I'm going to get into a lot of trouble for telling you this…" he said slowly, and she felt her sense heighten.

_Finally._ But her emotions weren't relief. They were guilt, and shame.

She waited for him to continue, and when he did, she wasn't surprised at all that he began to talk about the Xion android, she was however shocked to discover that he was the only Rowdy Ruff who knew about it, and that he was strongly opposed against it.

He looked at her with concerned eyes, as if what he had just told her might cause her head to explode. She took a slow breath, unsure of how to handle this. She half contemplated spilling everything, too, but decided against it.

_He's telling this to _Beatrice_ whom he trusts. Not deceiving Blossom_. She shuddered at her given name; she hadn't called herself that in years.

"Well," she began, "Don't you have super powers? Can't you do something?" She felt so childish.

He chuckled grimly, "Have you met Him? I hope not," he added, not allowing her to finish.

She hadn't realized how trapped Brick had been, as well, and she began to saw him in a completely new light—instead of pure evil, he was now merely a man who did what he could to survive. That didn't make him exactly good, but it was better than simply having evil intentions.

Her motherly instincts kicked in, and she wanted nothing more than to hold Brick in the same way she would hold a crying child. She yearned for her lost years, wondering if she would ever even _be_ a mother—she didn't think she wanted to raise a child in a sort of post-apocalyptic world.

_Has this always been the way? _She thought, wondering if he had the same conflicting emotions about causing havoc all those years ago when they had the greatest fight the world has ever seen.

"Well what are you going to do? Are you just going to let Him get away with killing three quarters of the world's population?" She placed her hands on her hips, and looked at him expectantly.

He chuckled again, "You remind me of someone I used to know,"

"Used to?" She challenged, "What happened to them?"

"She's gone," he winced slightly. Again, she considered telling all, but figured he would feel betrayal more than relief.

"You have to do something," she begged, hoping he would have a change of heart.

"There's nothing I _can_ do. The situation's hopeless."

_Hopeless._ She repeated silently. _Everything about my life is hopeless._

"So you're just going to sit back and watch people die?" She spat, unable to control her disgust, wondering how she ever felt pity for someone who only ever wanted to save himself, "Why tell me?"

"I wanted to warn you-,"

"Well I wish you hadn't. I can't believe you."

_He must think he's being so valiant. By warning me. Yet he refuses to do anything to save the millions of other people who are going to die fighting for their freedom. He's just going to sit back and watch. _

"Don't be a hero, Beatrice," he sounded heavily concerned.

"It's not being a hero. It's being a leader, and not a follower. That's the difference between good and evil, Brick. It's either saving your own life and watching others die, or leading the fight to freedom," she was surprised out how venomous she sounded.

"What's the point if you know you don't stand a chance?" he pleaded.

"The point?" she sounded incredulous, "It's the principle of the matter. I will not lose my morals,"

He looked stunned, but she didn't care, because it was at that moment that she realized it didn't matter if she didn't have her powers back. She was tired of laying low, and cowering in fear. It went against everything she's ever worked for. It was time to be a leader. She clacked off and began to walk home, not bother to look back and see if he was still there.

She needed to tell her sisters what she found out immediately, it was only right.

When she got home, locking the door behind her, she let out a sigh of relief. Only, it didn't come out like she thought it would. Instead, it came out icy. A little _too_ icy.

_I can't believe it. I have to call Bianca and Belle. Now._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: This is me answering some questions that I figured were pretty clear, but that's because I wrote it and I know what's going on :P! So here are questions I've collected (paraphrased):<strong>

**Q: Could you write longer chapters?  
>A: I could, yes, but to be quite honest, I can't contain myself. Basically every chapter is a different POV, I like ending a chapter when I want to switch POVs because in my opinion as a reader, it makes it slightly clearer when reading. And like I said, I just really want to get it out there for you guys to see, because I love your reviews. You all are just so sweet and I hate keeping you waiting.<strong>

**Q: Why does HIM make the guys sign contracts? Is he really afraid of the law or is he just trying to give them a sense that they have a choice?**  
><strong>A: HIM is manipulative, so, yes, he does want to give them the sense that they have a choice. If you notice in the chapter I bring up the contracts, Brick says "If we agree to signing them," and HIM pauses as if he's irritated with Brick for even suggesting they have any more say in the matter. The RRB are basically the law, so it wouldn't be because of that. He simply likes laying it out flat, the details, and then having people sign off to it. Kind of like how the devil makes people sign their souls, if you know what I mean.<strong>

**Q: Why doesn't HIM just kill Morbucks and steal his money?**  
><strong>A: It's not really HIM's style ;)<strong>

**Q: What is a Writer's Block? (Don't feel stupid!)**  
><strong>A: Writer's block is when an author loses the ability to produce new work. It varies in intensity. Sometimes it's having trouble wording something, and sometimes it's having trouble finding out how to solve a problem, or what to say next. It could be something minor, like a temporary difficulty in dealing with the task at hand. Or it could be extreme, like being unable to write anything for months at a time, maybe even years, or maybe even abandoning the project. Sometimes it's just the author viewing their work as inferior or unsuitable, when really it's gold.<strong>

**Q: What's up with Eric?  
>A: If you remember, in one of the first few chapters, Belle thinks Eric is cute. She becomes good friends with him, and when Bianca suggests Belle try jealous tactics, Belle sees the perfect opportunity with Eric.<strong>

**Q: Are all the other villians dead?**  
><strong>A: I'll leave that up to you guys. While watching the show, I only saw three villians the girls had trouble with. The rest were practically harmless, so to speak. Him, RRB, Mojo Jojo (he was harmless too, but he caused the most trouble).<strong>

**Q: Do they ever talk about how the girls actually killed the boys first?**  
><strong>A: When Mojo Jojo first discovers his boys in the park, they don't remember him. This is because they are technically a <em>new<em> RRB. So they would be mad that the PPG 'killed' them, but it wasn't really _them._When RRB killed the PPG, the girls weren't re-created, they were saved.**

**Q: "The worst kinds of nightmares were once memories."- Did you make that up?**  
><strong>A: Yes siree bob.<strong>

**Q: Why does HIM hate the PPG so much?**  
><strong>A: Because HIM is evil and the PPG are not. Because HIM wants to take over the world and the PPG want to free the world. They are literal opposites, and they simply irritate HIM.<strong>

**That's about questions in the first three (?) pages, and I'm too lazy to go back and answer the other ones. Enjoy this chapter :)!**


	54. Aquaphobia

~Buttercup~

She stared at Butch as he did laps innocently in the pool, finding it difficult to believe that he had no idea what was going on in _his_company. Last night, Beatrice called a meeting in her house, and the two sisters discovered that she had begun to get her powers back. Bianca, at that moment, felt a little guilty for not revealing that she, too, had begun to get her powers back decided she would keep silent about her revelation. Besides, Belle hadn't said anything either, and Bianca didn't want Belle to feel she was the only one without her powers. So she kept silent.

Today's lesson had been rough—he had trouble getting into the water, and it was almost like starting all over again. She curled her tongue absentmindedly, happy to get her favourite 'power' back.

When the lesson was over, and the both of them got out of the pool, Bianca wrapped a towel around her chest and decided today was the day she would find out the reason for Butch's fear of water.

He had his white towel across his shoulders, and his normally spiked up hair was loose and shaggy.

"Why are you afraid of water?" she agreed it would be best to be simply blunt about it.

He didn't sound annoyed, but he didn't sound pleased, either, "What does it matter? I don't think there's a reason, anyway,"

"It has to stem from somewhere," she raised an eyebrow, "Don't you trust me at this point?" She felt cruel for pulling the trust card when in reality he had no place trusting her, but she desperately needed to know.

He sighed and seemed to contemplate his options, "How much do you know about me?"

"As much as you've told me," she answered simply.

"You've never read a tabloid?"

"Omigosh, yes, that's totally the kind of girl I am!" She said sarcastically, waving her hands up and down.

He rolled his eyes, "A simple no would have sufficed,"

"Quit being a baby and just tell me," Bianca said, crossing her arms.

"When I was little, I didn't know how to swim,"

"That's it?"

"No, let me finish,"

_I didn't know how to swim, and water always looked frightening to me. In all honesty I never understood why we had to _know_ how to swim, but it wasn't something I could fight, even though I tried. My brothers already knew how to swim, and my second father came up to me one day to ask why I still swam like a rock._

_"Water's freaky," I had said. In all honesty, I was afraid of drowning. Water always held a certain aura of mystery that sparked a dark, heavy fear inside of me._

_This brought a slow malicious smile to his face, that I didn't realize at the time, "Come with me, and I'll show you how to get over your fear," Naturally, I followed. I had no reason _not_ to trust him, and Him was my dad, Him was supposed to help me, right?_

_Wrong. Him led me to his basement office—I was about seven, I think. I had already been there a couple of times, enough to know that each time it looked different. This time there was a small, circular tub in the middle, that seemed fairly shallow. It wasn't. It was about fifteen feet deep._

_"Go ahead, jump in. I'll hold you, don't worry," Him told me. Naturally, I shrugged out of my shoes and socks and made my way to the tub, not looking to see how deep it really was. I only managed to stick my feet in, I was too frigid with fear. At that point Him put his arms underneath my shoulders, and began to lower me._

_"Don't worry, I have you," So I let my guard down. It was at that point that Him dropped me in. I trashed up, desperately trying to remain above water, but my clothes weighed me down. By the time I figured I could fly out, Him placed both hands—claws, really—on my shoulders and pushed me down under._

_I kicked, and screamed, but it was useless underwater._

_"It will build your stamina," Him said to me, though his voice was muffled, "Remove all fear of death,"_

_I then realized Him knew the _real_ reason for my fear, but I wasn't sure how. I stopped struggling—not because I realized it was futile, but because I could no longer hold my own against Him. I felt little black dots in my vision, and my throat felt constricted. It was sort of peaceful underwater, if a watery death is your kind of way to relax. There were times where I would breathe in, though I knew it was pointless, only to choke on what felt like a gallon of water._

_After what felt like forever, Him lifted me out, and tossed me to the side carelessly. If I had my strength, I would have gone at Him with all I had. But I knew better._

_"So, Butch," Him said, once I finished throwing up, "You've learned two lessons today,"_

_I dared to ask what they were._

_"Never to disobey me, and that fighting against me is futile," Him smiled._

"Ever since then, I never got over my fear of water, or Him. I knew what Him was capable of, and that Him could bring back that kind of pain with the snap of a finger,"

Bianca wasn't entirely sure how to react. She could crack a joke to make the mood lighter, but somehow that didn't feel right. She could apologize for acting so abrasive and rude when she had no idea about his past, but that felt simply out of place.

She sighed, and was about to speak when she noticed a dark criss-cross on his back, something she hadn't noticed before. She recognized these scars. Scars bad enough that Chemical X won't heal them. Without asking, she gently placed her fingers on his scar, ignoring his flinch.

"Are these new?" she asked carefully, certain that she would have noticed them when they went to the beach together, or even when he was shirtless in his bed.

He nodded stiffly.

Her eyes widened as she realized when they might have happened, _"I'm not supposed to talk to you,"_.

"This is my fault?" she asked, making sure not to reveal any kind of emotion.

He shrugged, "It's no big deal,"

She decided not to make a scene about it—that was really more Belle's thing.

"Why don't we go for hot chocolate?" she suggested, taking his hand.

He seemed to like the change of subject, "Is this Bianca asking _me_ on a date?" he teased.

She rolled her eyes and punched him.

"Careful, people might think we're flirting," he said dramatically.

…

Bianca walked into work on Monday morning with a cheery attitude; last night she woke up from a nightmare and found she was floating in the air.

However, once she got to her place of work—Chez—she realized she would be dealing with something much worse today.

Eric had his hands around Katie protectively, as though he was an older brother. She was sobbing heavily. Immediately, Bianca thought the worse. She picked up her pace and ran to the front, fearing Madame DeFranc had been killed.

Thankfully, she was not. Instead, she was looking at her boarded up restaurant solemnly, and Bianca saw big red letters spelling out "EVICTED". A letter was in Madame's hands, but Bianca didn't need to read it to know who it was from.

Her initial reaction was shock—she simply could not believe that he betrayed her like this. Her next reaction was anger—_Of course he betrayed me like this!_—and she saw _red._ In fact, she _literally_ saw red.

She took a few breaths to calm herself, but they didn't do much. She needed to leave the scene, immediately, lest she risks being seen.

The alley around the corner was dark and smelled like cold rain, but it was enough to calm her down slightly, enough so that she no longer saw red.

_I can't believe he would do this…The ass!_

To her dismay, her hands began to glow green once more, and she couldn't do much to control it.

"No—stop!"

"Buttercup," Bianca froze. The voice was familiar, and didn't in the least sound vengeful. But she couldn't believe her suspicions.

A simple 180 degree turn proved her correct—it was Madame DeFranc.

"It's not what this looks like!" Bianca said, grateful that at her words, her hands stopped glowing green.

Madame DeFranc smiled softly, coming beside Bianca and sitting down, gesturing to Bianca to join her. She did so reluctantly.

"Isn't it though? Don't worry—I 'ave known for a while,"

"How long is a while?" Bianca asked, carefully.

Madame DeFranc paused for a moment, and Bianca realized just how much of a mother Madame has always been to her.

Her hair was a warm, honey brown, and her eyes were a soft moss green. They even had the same face shape—she could easily be mistaken for Bianca's mother, if Madame had had her young. Madame couldn't be any more than thirty five.

"Always, I suppose,"

Bianca noticed something was off about the way she was speaking—, "You're not even French, are you?"

She shrugged lightly, "British, actually. A Londoner to be specific,"

"Is Madame DeFranc your real name?" She had to ask.

"Yes, and no. It is not my given name. I was born Beth Jones, but my husband was a part of the DeFranc family,"

"Where is Monsieur DeFranc, anyways?"

This seemed to upset Madame—or, Beth, "We married three days before the greatest fall in history," She was referring to the death of the PowerPuff Girls, "he was everything I ever wanted in a man—charming, funny, treated me right. He even became a leader of the Rebellion in England," her eyes had a dreamy look to them, and she pulled her shoulder length hair back into a small bun, as if getting ready to cook.

"But he was no superhero. They eliminated him in seconds. I couldn't stay—they were coming for me next, I knew it. They had no idea what I looked like, merely my name. In retrospect, choosing TownsVille as my hideout was probably not wise—but as I'm sure you know, they hardly stayed in TownsVille,"

Bianca knew—the RowdyRuffs came back here just about three years ago.

"I lead the TownsVille Rebellion, and when I first saw you, I knew it was you. I felt resentment towards you, at first. I thought, 'If she's alive, why isn't she doing something?' It took me awhile to put together you no longer had your powers," she paused again, "It took me even longer to realize you had separated yourself from your sisters. When I saw Bubbles—or is she going by Belle, now?" she shook her head as though to signify it didn't matter, "I had to do my best to bring you to her,"

Bianca, at that moment, realized just how much of a mother Beth had been to her, and just how little she knew about her, even after work for her for nearly eight years.

"I'm going to die, soon, Buttercup,"

Her eyes widened. She would not have another parenting figure die on her, "Why do you say that?"

"I couldn't hide forever," she said it matter-of-factly, "I trust that you and your sisters will free our world,"

"Maybe you're putting a little too _much _trust,"

"Do you know why you are called Buttercup?"

She rolled her eyes at the memory, "Because it also starts with a 'B',"

Beth laughed, "Maybe at first. Buttercups are poisonous flowers. Eating them causes blistering in the mouth, yet they are a gorgeous yellow,"

She wasn't exactly sure what Beth meant by that.

"You'll know what I mean when the time comes. Until then, I'll continue to watch over you, and I'll continue to keep your secret. Simply because I know that when the time comes, you won't fail to save the day,"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: WHY BUTCH IS AFRAID OF WATER! I thought the title of this chapter was appropriate.<strong>

Golly gee :3! I hoped you guys liked it. It was pretty long and if you find any errors and anything that doesn't make sense, I apologize in advance. I'm gonna upload a lot this week because I'm going away on August 12th. Thoughts on this chapter? Thoughts in general? I'm glad you liked my Q&A, I will definitely continue writing and then pop in a different Q&A, so long as you guys ask dem Q's. Put them in reviews or PM me :)! You're all so kind, by the way, telling me I could be an author! I hope that's genuine :P! I love writing but I usually have the middle, the problem, the characters, the setting planned but not the beginning (sometimes I have it) and not the end, or the solution.  
>Dramamamapwnsall- I'm so glad you posted that! I won't correct you or the opposite of that (approve? Okay?) but I loved hearing your opinion! That was exactly the kind of stuff I wanted to hear :)!<p>

heemer- You're totally right! I can't believe I forgot about her tongue curling! It's in this chappie though :)

Powerpuffloverchick- I hope this one is slightly long enough :). Yeah, I know I could do that, but it makes it feel busy. PLUS I LOVE CLIFFHANGERS :D Gah I know, I think I'll be pretty upset when I finish this.

A Fan- Well I'm certainly 'A Fan' of your review! Long and juicyy :) I know. It might be because I thought of this after watching the back-up plan, but she does have a point. He's really doing nothing to stop Him. And about the fan art, it's still happening, just a few technical difficulties :). And about the pairings-my thoughts exactly! Sometimes the romance _is_ a bit rushed. I love hearing what you like and I would totally reply to every thought you had, but that would be a really long reply, wouldn't it? I hope you keep reviewing your long reviews! (Does that make sense?)


	55. Oblivious

_$ Princess $_

"Why yes," Princess held the mirror up higher, making sure to catch her eyes, "I will marry you! This is all so unexpected!" she blinked a couple of times to make the tears come—if she was going to cry, she needed to look good while doing it.

"I wouldn't bother," a husky voice called out. It had frightened Princess so much, she dropped the mirror.

"Whoever you are, you're fired! And I'll make sure you never work again! How dare you! Clean this up!" she was livid.

"Hmm, no. Afraid I don't work for you Princess,"

"Then, _what_ are you doing in my house?" she said each word slowly, rising with anger, "Secu-," but she didn't get to finish—a hand covered her mouth.

She felt like barfing. The hand smelled strongly of dish soap, and apparently the owner had never heard of moisturizer. Princess reached into her back pocket and pulled out a wad of cash, waving it above her hand with her free hand.

"I don't want your money," the voice sounded disgusted, and pressed on the side of Princess's neck.

She blacked out.

…

When she woke up, hazily, she realized she was tied—hastily, it seemed—to a chair.

She started to scream—but soon realized she was incapable of doing so, her mouth had been duct taped.

"You might be wondering what I want,"

_No shit._

"I don't want money, or anything that can be bought,"

_Then what?_

Her eyes widened in fear, and—, "No, I don't want that either. Don't be so conceited. What I want,"

_Get out with it already!_

"Concerns just what you were talking about a couple of minutes ago,"

None of this made any sense—was this man sent by Boomer? If he was, she can guarantee her Daddy won't sign over anything, and she'll be sure to make certain Boomer gets in a lot of pain for this little show.

"I wasn't sent by Boomer, no," the man paused, "he's too good for this," Princess found she was confused once more.

"But, enough about that. Listen, Princess," in a flash, the man was behind Princess, his lips beside her ear, "I could kill you," he whispered, "I could but I won't. Instead, I'll warn you. Leave Boomer—and the rest of the Rowdy Ruffs," she added as a second-thought, "_alone_. Have your _daddy_ sign over his company, and leave the boys alone,"

Princess scoffed silently—of course she would agree to this. That doesn't mean she has to go through with it—she would just tighten security, and have Boomer with her at all times.

"Don't even think about it," the man said, as if he could read her mind, "because if you _don't_ do as I asked—I'll stop at nothing to make sure you get what's coming to you,"

Another blackout, but this time when she woke, she was no longer tied up, and there wasn't a single trace of her…_visitor._

One thing was for certain, if he _was_ real, he did a good job at scaring Princess out of her wits.

~Bubbles~

Belle's heart was still beating heavily—she couldn't believe what she'd just done. Of course, it was all bluffed, but she hoped Princess wasn't aware of that.

It was unfathomable that she had that kind of strength—and that she could make her voice go that low. Originally, she wasn't going to say anything to Princess—in fact, it hadn't even crossed her mind. It wasn't until tonight, when she saw the pained look on Boomer's face at the sight of her going out on a date that she realized making Boomer jealous wasn't doing anyone any favours.

It was obvious he had feelings for her, that wasn't the problem evidently. _She_was. Boomer was doing his best to ignore his feelings for Belle by insulting her and keeping his distance, because he knew it was hopeless. He was trying to avoid feeling more pain than he already had to by marrying Princess.

She felt completely terrible—all of this was so out of her character. Lying, tricking, threatening. But the world was in a state of post-apocalypse, and she only did what she thought she had to.

She unlocked the door to their condo, still feeling slightly shook. It had certainly been a while since she had been in a situation like that. She leaned against the door, finally feeling relief when the light flicked on.

"Oh, hey Belle," Belle didn't need to see who it was to know it was Boomer. He was standing in the kitchen, his back to her, still in the dark.

"Boomer." She said, completely devoid of emotion, "You're up late,"

"You're home late,"

"Since when did I have a curfew?"

His silhouette chuckled as he turned around slowly. He was slumped over slightly, holding what seemed to be a beer in his left hand—his shirt was off. He stumbled into the light, and Belle did her best to mask her reaction.

He chuckled, she could smell the alcohol from here, "You wear your heart on your sleeve," apparently she had not done a very good job at hiding her emotions.

She rolled her eyes, hesitating before coming to his side, "What happened?" she ran her hand across a scar that lined from his left eye to the left corner of his mouth. It was in the process of healing, but deep enough that it had not healed yet.

He flinched, something she never saw him do, "I had it coming. I've been skipping meetings," his voice was nonchalant but his eyes showed his pain.

"Here. Why don't I help you to your room, and I'll help you clean these up,"

"Why? It's going to heal anyway,"

"To make it slightly less painful," she said softly, even though his constant questioning was irritating her. Belle knew very well that even if Chemical X healed your injuries, that didn't stop them from hurting. She put his arm over her shoulder and began walking towards his room.

"No, it's alright. I can stay on the couch,"

"Is it too painful to move?" she stopped walking.

"Not exactly…" she narrowed her eyes in suspicion, slipping out from under his arm and continuing to his room, "Yeah, Belle, you're not going to like it,"

A tornado had hit his room. It had to have. The damage was high—one of the walls was ripped out completely. His bed had been broken in two, the wallpaper ripped to shreds. She had small comfort in the fact that he took his anger out on his room, and not a poor unsuspecting citizen, as she had been told he was known to do.

"That's fine," her voice was high pitched and clipped, as she walked back to Boomer, slipping his arm over her shoulder once more, "you can sleep in my bed, and I'll sleep on the couch,"

"Belle-,"

"No." She said sternly, "You're injured. Just try not to destroy it," she said light-heartedly. She did her best to make it seem as though she was struggling under his weight, but in reality he felt as light as a feather to her.

She helped him onto her bed, and spent the next few hours tending to his wounds, even after he had fallen asleep. When it was four in the morning, she decided to retire to her couch, and she got up from her crouched position beside the bed.

As she left, a small photograph sized paper floated out from under the mattress, onto the floor in plain sight. Unfortunately for Belle, it had escaped her attention.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Oh it's so good to be back! I missed you guys. I couldn't even write because I forgot my journal. It's torture to have all these ideas etc in your head and you are unable to write it down.<strong>

**Wow. 300 reviews! That's amazing. You are all so amazing and so kind. I posted a poll on my profile, concerning whether or not you guys would like an epilogue. I'm not sure how exactly polls work, but I think you can vote even if you don't have an account. If not, sorry D:**

**I just can't get over how much I love your reviews. Especially your reaction to Beth. Ou and congrats to fearlessgurl101 for being reviewer number 300!**

**Uhm EXCUSE ME- I very much thought you were going to yell at me...baha and I can't help it. Writing is a huge passion of mine. **

**Kairidawn- I'm interested in knowing why you thought he was. Is the real reason what you expected? Or do you feel robbed?**

**Lavenderprincess22- Thank you very much! That means a lot!**

**And again, thank you to all my lovely constant reviewers. You guys are AMAZING! I read all of them, and each one makes me smile like an idiot :)**


	56. Two Points Of View

~Blossom~

Her phone rang again—she didn't need to look at the caller ID to know who it was. The same person who had called every past hour on the hour. She wasn't interested.

Beatrice had been exercising like a mad woman. She was already fairly in shape due to her dancing career, but she didn't want to take any chances.

-

**"Wait. I'm confused. Who is Beth again? She killed Madame DeFranc?" Belle inquired, to which Bianca rolled her eyes in frustration. **

**"Beth _is_Madame DeFranc, the leader of the Townsville Rebellion—also known as the Head Rebellion. She had to change her identity in order to protect herself,"**

**Bianca had shown up on Beatrice's door step at around five in the morning, fresh with the smell of cold air.**

**_'It's an emergency, can't wait. Call up Belle; she needs to be here immediately,'_**

**The moment Belle stepped through Beatrice's doorway, Bianca began to speak—a mile a minute. If she were honest, Beatrice found it surprising to hear that Butch had been relatively the first of the brothers to crack and spill. She had thought it would have been Boomer—though she knew from working with him he puts up a tough exterior, a strong contrast to the soft and naïve Boomer of the past.**

**She wondered why the boys had changed so much. Was it simply because they grew, or was it something else? She shook the thought away, returning her focus to the conversation at hand.**

**Beth Jones—she had heard that name before. She remembered reading about Beth, who held on to her maiden name after marrying her husband, Louis DeFranc leader of the European Rebellion.**

**"What is it she wants from us?" It was Beatrice who spoke—breaking the silent vigil she had kept since Bianca began speaking. **

**"She's a good person, Bea."**

**"You know this for sure?"**

**"I've practically been living with her since I was sixteen," Bianca shot back, slightly defensive. **

**"She has a right to be suspicious, Bianca. Beatrice doesn't even know what Beth looks like,"**

**"Just trust me on this one. Beth has our best interests at heart,"**

**"So we're just supposed to give our identity away to, what, fifty people? What if they have spies? Infiltrators? The two of you don't even have your powers back," Bianca and Belle both looked away, for whatever reason.**

**"It's not possible. Most of the rebels have family that has been wrongfully imprisoned, or killed. Anyone else is strictly devoted,"**

**"I don't know,"**

**"Bea. I know you're scared, but we _need_ this,"**

-

They came to a comprise, Beatrice agreeing to reveal their identity to the rebels once at least one other sister had gotten their powers back.

She stopped doing sit ups and grabbed her water bottle, heading towards the ceiling window in her apartment. Her cat came up behind her, weaving through her legs as Beatrice took a sip of her water bottle.

She couldn't help it—mentally comparing this Townsville to the one that used to exist. Abandoned buildings filled the horizon, and on the streets the few people out were rushing to their destinations. She remembered being young, and wanting to see the world; learn all there is to learn. How quickly your dreams can be ripped from you.

Beatrice knew that she should be grateful she had the chance to cheat death, but she couldn't help but yearn for the life that was taken from her.

None of it added up—they were rivals, yes, but they gave up attempting to kill each other a while back. Both sides agreed it was a waste of energy. Their hesitation right before they went for the kill was obvious, but why?

Very rarely did Beatrice find something that truly stumped her, and this had been bothering her for years. It wasn't until then did she finally address what she had been suppressing for years.

* * *

><p>~Buttercup~<p>

Her skin crawled with anger, even after Madam—Beth had soothed her. She hadn't gone home—even after promising that she would. Instead, she did something completely out of character—she went drinking. It was now two-thirty in the morning and she was stumbling around in the streets, a dangerous feat.

Her heels clacked against the pavement and she shivered—she had left her coat at the bar, only just realizing it now. She wanted nothing more than to tear his head off, to give away her identity. She didn't care; she just wanted revenge, finally.

The wind blew her hair up and over her head, causing her to lose her footing and come crashing down on the pavement. It only hurt half as much as it should have, and to her surprise she found comfort on the ground. She wanted to cry, but she was much stronger than that. Things in her life have been worse before, but something about her current situation tore at her.

Perhaps it was because she let her guard down, allowed herself to feel emotion towards someone who had once been her sworn enemy, only to have her heart stomped on. She didn't cry, though she did feel dead inside. As time passed, and she still lay on the ground, she realized her anger was more towards her naiveté, rather than towards the man who had betrayed her.

Speak of the devil, and the devil will appear, "Bianca?" she scoffed silently at the soft tinge of concern in his voice. She felt her irritation rise at the fact that she didn't even need to see his face to know it was him.

He knelt down beside her—she could see him through the hair that covered her face, though she was certain he couldn't see her face.

_How did he know it was me? _The thought briefly moved through her mind; she didn't linger on it.

"Bianca." He repeated, slightly sterner, "If you can hear me, give me a sign,"

She groaned, and rolled away from him, no longer in a halfway fetal position—she was now just lying plainly on her back.

She chuckled, "Came to rub it in?"

"I—what?"

Even though he wasn't looking at her face, she rolled her eyes, "Oh, you know," she laughed darkly, "how you tricked the waitress who wouldn't give you the time of day, before you took her job away,"

"What are you talking about?" he seemed frustrated.

_Well, so am I!_ She sat up on her left elbow, "You're a sick person, you know that? What did _I _ever do to you? Nothing. You're just a sociopath,"

He grabbed her wrist and made direct eye contact with her, "Bianca. I don't know what you're talking about!"

"You shut down Chez! You tricked me into letting my guard down and then you shut down my restaurant!" she screamed, ripping her hand away from him, wanting desperately to beat him up.

_You know better._

"Chez has been shut down?" he sounded genuinely confused.

"Don't pretend you have no idea about it. I _saw_ your signature of approval,"

"My father has my signature on a stamp,"

"What kind of idiocy is _that_?"

"Like it matters," he mumbled. If her powers hadn't been returning, she would have missed it.

"Tell me the truth. Did you _sincerely_ have nothing to do with my restaurant being shut down?"

He looked at her carefully, "I had nothing to do with it," she unwillingly let out a sigh of relief, "Directly," he added, causing her to tense up.

"What do you mean?" she hissed.

"My father doesn't like me spending time with you. I'm sure he thought this would push you away from me,"

"Why? I haven't even met your father,"

"He needs me to focus,"

"_On what_?" she was exasperated.

"I can't tell you,"

"Butch,"

…

"They're called Xions,"

Bianca's hand was suddenly against her heart—she had read the report, just as her sisters had, but never had she imagined she would be seeing them any time soon.

_They look just like humans…_

They were looking at the androids through a double sided mirror, one that looked into a bare room with three visible black walls. In rows of 6 by 6, alternating between male and female, stood the Xions with their heads bowed. They looked exactly like they did on the poster, with the man muscular and the women looking like models.

"This is the default mode. They're meant to blend in with everyone else, but act as strict law enforcers when Rebels are found. They're still in development—every Monday night my brothers and I have to come into the training room to fight them. Each time they are defeated they grow stronger. My father wants them to become invincible,"

"You're okay with this? You do realize over half the world's population is rebels?"

He nodded stiffly, "I like to think I have a choice, sometimes. But in reality I don't," his voice was devoid of emotion.

"You aren't seriously letting this happen?" he didn't respond, "Well? Can't you do something? Fight them?"

He sighed, "No. The Xions are faster, stronger and crueller than I or anyone else ever could be. When they're ready, they would be able to kill me in seconds. I don't stand a chance,"

_How on Earth are we supposed to stop these? _She racked her brain, and the answer suddenly became obvious. _Him._

"Why are you telling me this? Won't you get in huge trouble?"

He shrugged, "Because I choose you, Bianca. I pick you over it all. Honestly, ever since I met you I've been this different person…the _feelings_ I have for you…I've never felt them before. I wasn't even sure I was capable of _feeling_ this way. I know this is going to sound weird, but it's almost like you were _made_for me. You're my better half, and I will fight for the right to choose you,"

_I can't tell Beatrice about my powers. Not for a little while. I just need some more time with Butch. I just know I can get him to help me, I need the right moment._

She truly had no response to what he said to her—not one she was ready to share, anyway. So she instead wrapped her arms around his chest and allowed him to pull her in. They didn't kiss, merely embraced—she felt that that was what was needed then.

Hugging Butch with her guard down didn't feel as though she was hugging another person. It felt as though the two were merging as one. It was comfortable, and it made it easy to escape her current situation.

_I'll figure something out later…_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: You asked for more romance...<strong>

**MusaWCEB- Haha, oh no I would never! I was merely away, but I'm back now. Thanks for your review :)**


	57. Truth

**Boomer.**

He woke up in a daze, remembering close to nothing of what happened the night before. He had a heavy hangover, something he learned at seventeen that he was not immune to. He groaned and reached over to his nightstand, where a glass of water usually stood for occasions like these. In a small panic, he soon realized he was not in his own bed.

_I was wondering why it was so damn bright._

It was not his own room, but not entirely unfamiliar. With a jolt he realized he was in the guest room, or rather, _Belle's _room—he looked to his right and breathed a sigh of relief. There was no naked Belle sleeping beside him.

His relief turned into slight disappointment. There was no naked Belle sleeping beside him.

At that, last night became crystal clear—he had been called in for a private training lesson, one he realized halfway through was more of a 'Don't you for a minute think you have a chance against me' lesson.

He wondered if his brothers felt the same way about their adoptive father.

_Of course they don't. So keep your mouth shut about it. The one good thing about having to marry Princess is the fact that Him will be off my back._

He shuddered at the thought of marrying Princess, even though it was inevitable—in a few months time, on a televised event, he would have to propose to her.

More memories of the night before flooded back—Belle twirling in a light blue dress, having to watch her leave. Coming home fresh with rage at his father, tearing his room apart. His brothers giving up on attempting to pacify him; Butch going out because he 'saw something suspicious'. Brick heading back to his room, asking him to 'please calm the fuck down'. Drinking so much he could hardly think. Belle coming home and taking care of him.

His memory suddenly became less about recalling the events, and more about Belle. The way her eyes got so serious when she was wiping his dried blood, how determined she was to help him—even though she knew his wounds would heal by morning anyway. She gave up her bed for him—sure, he was her boss and it _was_his home—but that was going above and beyond. He had never met someone with such pure intentions—who was so kind. At least, not in a long while.

In a small way, he hated her—he hated her for showing up and throwing his life upside down. Even though he was aware there was nobody to blame but himself. With each passing day, as his admiration towards her grew stronger, his patience grew thinner. Nothing he said to her seemed to upset her enough to leave, which is what he needs her to do desperately. He _needs_ her to leave, but he certainly doesn't _want_ her to leave.

She would hardly even flinch when he snapped. Lately it seemed there was no shaking her.

It drove him crazy every time she would take a deep breath and talk to him—but also gave him a flooded sense of relief, a solid feeling that _she wasn't going anywhere_.

That's what scared him—one day, she'd be gone, and he'd be left with his thoughts again. They were all avoiding discussing it with him, but he knew the second after he was engaged, Belle would have to leave—Princess wouldn't have it any other way.

But every day she smiled at him. Every morning, she was there. Every outburst, she was there.

Her smile, burned into his mind—and he liked it that way.

Again, he groaned, deciding it was time to get up.

_Maybe I can come in to work. How many days have I missed the past two weeks? What am I even paying that assistant for?_

He shook his head, sitting up and letting his feet touch the ground, grateful to the Chemical X running through his veins for curing his injuries. And, the more he thought about, to Belle for helping it along. He was about to get up and thank her in person when he realized he had been stepping on something.

Boomer cursed under his breath—it felt like a photograph, most likely one of Belle's. He hoped he hadn't ruined it by stepping on it. He leaned over to pick it up and examine it, when its content grabbed his attention.

It took a few more moments than it should have to register the people in the photograph. He couldn't be blamed, of course, he hadn't seen those people in years—they were a bit younger than he last remembered them.

He felt his nostalgia mix with sadness—their father…what was it, the scientist? The doctor? It didn't matter either way.

In front of him were three smiling girls, and a white and black dog at their side. They were in Townsville park—as it was over ten years ago, not the gang infested park you'd find today.

_I did that. I did that. I did that._ It echoed through his mind.

Blossom was in the middle, smiling just as bright as her blonde sister. Even Buttercup had managed a smile.

_What could have been going on to make them all smile so brightly?_

But the nostalgia and sadness slipped away as he remembered his surroundings. It was quickly replaced by pure rage as to whose possession he had found it in.

His thoughts turned dark, and he began to see red, **_Why does she have this? She must be a rebel! The lying BITCH. I brought her in to my home, told her my secrets, and this whole time she's been plotting against me. Of course she's a rebel, why else would she have a photo of THEM? Him has strictly forbidden talk of THEM._**

He looked at the photo again, tempted to rip it to shreds—**_No, I need the evidence of her treason_**—when he noticed it. The similarities.

Their heads were shaped the same, their eyes the same blue. Her hair was not as blonde, and significantly longer. But their smile? The exact same.

**_Don't…_**_Don't be ridiculous. It's not possible. **Damn her, the Rebel. **_He shot out of the room.

* * *

><p><strong>Butch<strong>

_Love is a dumb word, anyways. Say it enough and it doesn't even sound like a word anymore._

Sure, he's had _plenty_ of girls—but they were stupid, they were easily moulded, they fell into his charms and he didn't even have to try.

Love was for girls—it was for corporate companies to make cheesy movies out of. In real life, the guy doesn't always get the girl. In real life, sorry doesn't always fix it. In real life, there's not always a happy ending. In real life, you don't always get a second chance. In real life, guys like him don't win her over.

So was this all a dream?

_Don't be stupid. _

He felt stupid-stupid for proclaiming his feelings to her. But she didn't laugh. She didn't tear his heart out and spit on it, like he thought she would.

Then again, she didn't respond passionately, either, like he saw in those sappy chick flicks. The more he thought about it, the further he confused himself. What was it about this girl-who he had met about a year ago-that made him feel so self conscious? So eager to impress? At times, he wanted nothing more than to hold her and never let go. To protect her from all the bad in the world.

It sounded cheesy, but she _changed _him. A year ago today he was a completely different person.

Distrustful, supercilious, abrasive, self-concerned and a huge player. Today? Almost none of those were true.

He was, however, still distrustful. He could see it in her eyes-she wanted to trust him, but she knew better. He knew it- he couldn't be trusted. She shouldn't trust him. He didn't even trust himself.  
>There was a time in his life where he felt this way before. But just as quickly as he had acknowledged it, the feeling disappeared. <em>She<em>disappeared. At his hands.

He had no desire whatsoever to even fight with Bianca, but it was still dangerous.

_I'd rather I die than her_. He was certain he'd never felt that way about a girl before, especially not one that constantly taunted him.

The taunting didn't bother him in the slightest—in fact he preferred it that way. It kept things light. Otherwise, he was certain he'd become a total sap. And he wasn't exactly sure how he'd deal with that.

* * *

><p>~Bubbles~<p>

Belle stared out the window dreamily as she wiped the counter lazily; thinking about how much she liked the rain. It always brought a fresh start when it ended. She hadn't had much sleep the night before, but it wasn't anything new. When working for the Furds she hardly ever slept.

_I wonder what happened to them._ She briefly recalled Boomer telling her they had been taken care of, whatever that meant. Her heart beat quickly and she hoped they were still alright.

She felt a gust of wind, and for a minute she had thought the window was open when she realized—it was Boomer. He slammed into the kitchen angrily, and she turned around slowly wondering what had upset him now. Before, dealing with him when he was angry was frightening, but she would always push herself through. Now that she had 2/3 of her powers back, Boomer angry was slightly amusing.

Until she found out why. Her eyes jumped immediately to his clutched hand as he lifted it and slammed it into the refrigerator, making a dent.

"**_What is this?_**" he asked, his voice a low growl.

"Where did you get that?"

"**_From your room. What was it doing there?_**"

"Why were you snooping in my room?"

"**_Answer the question,_**"

"It's a photograph," she answered calmly. She felt the slightest bit of fear in the pit of her stomach—what she had was somewhat illegal and extremely frowned upon. Not to mention, if you looked closely, the similarities were obvious. She might as well have signed her death warrant.

"**_Do you realize who this is of?_**"

"I'm not a rebel!" she said quickly. Being a rebel was possibly the worst crime she could have committed. He slammed her against the counter closest to the window, one arm on either side of her, tearing into the granite.

"**_Then _what_ are you?_**" he spat at her, his voice dripping with disgust.

"I—I'm just a fan," she lied. His eyes glowed red, but instead he lunged at her and she felt the shards of glass piercing the back of her hand as they flew out the window. It didn't hurt as much as the rain did—the rain felt like knives.

At one point, while they were falling, they switched positions and Belle's back was against his chest, having him be the first down—making it _slightly_ less dangerous. But she didn't scream. She knew that if it got to the point where she was about to die, she would simply fly her way down and survive the fall. Fortunately it didn't come to that—he flew down when they were mere inches from the cement. He landed on his two feet and shoved her away from him.

She looked at him, her hair soaked and blown out of its ponytail.

"So kill me," she yelled, "or throw me in jail or whatever,"

_Beatrice and Bianca are going to kill me. Thankfully there is no connection to the three of us, so they should be safe._

He didn't respond. She could see his emotions flickering across his face.

"Well?"

"You must hate me," he said simply, not looking at her.

"_What_? Did you confuse our roles or—,"

"I killed them, you know. Me," he looked at her, squinting in the rain.

"I know that—,"

"I didn't want to, Belle, I swear I didn't. But it _doesn't_ work that way when you're born to be the villain. It's one or the other," he walked towards her and instinctively she took a step back, regretting it once she saw how much it had hurt him.

"You always have a choice,"

"They've killed me once before, Belle! I didn't want to die again!"

"So why didn't you stop? Why didn't you join forces?"

"I was _born_ this way. You can't fight it,"

"Yes you can,"

"Not when the person who brought you back is so terrifying, you'll do whatever you're told to,"

_I had never seen it that way…_

She couldn't be here anymore. She had to leave. He knew about the photo, it wouldn't be long before he found out who she was. _One or the other_. He had said. Sure, she had her powers back but she couldn't take three of them. Not without her sisters, and Beatrice had just begun to get her powers back, Bianca hadn't gotten them back at all.

She took one last look at the broken blonde boy, "Goodbye, Boomer," she said, and she turned on her heels and started walking away. It didn't matter that she would be homeless, or that everything was back in their apartment, she _had_ to leave.

"Wait! Belle!" he ran towards her and grabbed her arm, "Please, don't go. I won't give you away," she turned around, and her eyes were heavy with sympathy as she pulled her arm back out.

"No Boomer, I can't stay. Besides, I'm only hurrying the inevitable along," She said, referring to the fact that Princess wants her out. Her plan the night before hadn't worked; Princess hadn't contacted Boomer to break off their future engagement. Staying would only cause the both of them further pain, and possibly give her identity away.

"You know about that?"

"I'd be stupid not to,"

"Don't leave before you have to. I'll be nicer, I swear,"

"That's not it. If that was it I would have left a long time ago,"

"Then what? Whatever it is—," he was so desperate to keep her—she couldn't lie to him any longer. He put up a tough exterior, but in reality he was just as susceptible to emotional pain as anyone else.

"_I'm _Bubbles, Boomer! The little blonde in the picture is _me!_ That's why I had to go! But it doesn't matter now does it? Because either way I'm in trouble," she said, and she braced herself for his reaction, her eyes strong.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Check out the poll on my profile! Vote ya crazies :)<strong>

**Oh, and I was suprised by how many of you didn't know what the picture was. Lemme take you back to chapter three:**

She went under her mattress and pulled out a wrinkled, old photo.

_My sisters._ She thought, as a tear fell. _Happy anniversary._

**All three sisters have the picture :). Obviously she brought it from the Furds to the condo :)**

**Just a fun note, the cliffhanger I just left you guys on, I was going to leave you guys with it before I went on my trip. I decided not to be so evil..**

**However, here's a little preview of what's to come:**

_**He put his hands on both sides of her face,**_

_**She braced herself for the pain,**_

_**She knew she would have to get right back up again and fight,**_

_**She wrapped her arms around his neck,**_

_**She felt the ground disappear under her, **_

**Also, I realize I'm being cruel towards you redz fans. I'm totally going to make it up to you guys, I promise :D**

**Red Angel Lover- No...he's still alive...for now { D]: '_Help meee! Help me by reviewing!'}_**

**DAZIYLY FAN- I love your review (and your name :D ;) )**


	58. Unexpected

~Bubbles~

He put his hands on both sides of her face, and for a second Belle thought he was going to kill her—she braced herself for the pain, because she knew she would have to get right back up again and fight. But instead, he pulled her two him, and enveloped her in a passionate kiss. They became one, moving in perfect harmony, responding to the needs and desires of the other. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and his hand went to the back of her head, underneath her hair, his other hand pulling her closer to him.

She had never felt more secure, than she did at that moment, in Boomer's arms. Her body reacted electrically to his touch—she had never wanted something so badly before. She never wanted to let go.

She felt the ground disappear under her, and she realized she was literally flying with him, up in the air in the rain, but she didn't mind. Kissing him was sending stimulating charges through her, as if this is what she was supposed to do.

"That was not how I expected you to react," she whispered. He pulled her head to his shoulder, pulling her into a hug, and she responded by wrapping her arms around him, comforted by the feeling of his muscles holding her lovingly.

"It wasn't how I expected myself to react, either. I'm so sorry Bubbles," he responded, softly, his arms caressing her, still embracing.

"It's alright. I'm here now, aren't I?" she paused. What was she doing with Boomer? Clearly Princess hadn't responded to her threat—Boomer had received no cancellation call, no visit from Princess. Being with him right now was only putting him—and evidently herself, in danger, "What are you going to do about Princess?"

"I don't know. I'll figure it out," she didn't have a response for that. She could only hope that Princess would call in the passing days, "I didn't realize it until now. I didn't realize it back then, either," she waited for what he was going to say, "but I love you, Bubbles. I really do,"

"I love you too," she said, before she could even think—it just felt like the right thing to say. And now that it was out, she couldn't take it back. Dark thoughts tore at her—what if he was lying, tricking her, to trap her into revealing the location of her sisters?

"I won't tell a soul, I can't stand losing you again," he hugged her tightly, and all her worries crumpled away.

~Blossom~

She didn't want to be here—she was so tired of meeting with him at ungodly hours. But her sister was right.

**"Bea! I'm here. What's the emergency?" Bianca ran through the door to Beatrice's apartment, having being given her own key. Beatrice sit on her L-shaped couch, her knees to her chest, her phone lying adjacent to her.**

**"Where's Belle?" **

**"I couldn't get a hold of her," **

**Beatrice sighed, "Read the first voicemail on my phone. The password is 0567," **

**She waited while her sister heard the message that had sent a chill down Beatrice's back. **

**"You have to meet with him,"**

**"You heard him! He _knows_,"**

**"He didn't say what he knows about," Bianca pointed out, soothing Beatrice's nerves—only slightly. **

**"Either way, I can't risk it. I'm the only one who was her powers back, I can't give myself away. I just need to avoid him,"**

**Bianca sighed, and broke eye contact, "I got my powers back today," she mumbled. **

So Beatrice had no other choice. Bianca had agreed to come along with her, staying close by yet out of sight, should she be needed.

She shivered as the wind blew in, "I didn't think you'd come," she snapped around, and there stood Brick—or rather, his silhouette. Though she could not see distinguishable features, she could tell he was wearing something similar to what he wore the night she first met him. And, she noticed chillingly, he was wearing his hat—the same red baseball hat he wore all the time when they were younger, though so far as Beatrice this is the first time she's seen him wearing it.

"Why wouldn't I come?" she said, doing her best to remain nonchalant, though she still shivered in the cold.

He shrugged and stepped more into the light, "You know, now that I know. Thought you'd hide or something," his body stance was relaxed, but his eyes were intense as he stared at her.

"Know _what_ exactly?"

"Why are you hiding where you live?"

It was a simple question, yet it still caught her off guard, "I—what?" she blinked.

"You've told me you live just North of RRB Corp., but you don't. Your resume says you live on 852 Farley St, but you don't. I'm _dying_ to know your explanation, other than what I already know," he smirked at me, though his eyes were cold.

She could see Bianca's signal from behind Brick, and she quickly shook her head no. She needed to know what he thought she was.

She stared at him, silently stating that she would wait for him to explain before she spoke. He shrugged, "Why else would anyone hide where they lived on a job resume for RRB Corp? You're a rebel, Beatrice, and a high up one too. You quit your dancing job so that you could get hired at the RRB Corp, working for one of the Rowdy Ruffs,"

She scoffed—it was a reflex and she regretted it immediately, "I'm no rebel. Look at me. Do you honestly think I'm a rebel?"

His tone became hostile, "Don't lie to me. Why are you hiding your address, then?"

"Um, fear?" The 'um' was honestly her thinking—but the way it came out made it sound as though that reason was the most probable of them all.

"Fear?" his tone softened, but not because he was being sympathetic, that much she knew. He was considering her reason.

"You need to stop assuming everyone is out to get you. Maybe more people would be alive today if you weren't so paranoid," she said coldly, turning on her heels and walking away.

She didn't want to admit—but it tore at her. More than ever she wanted to just be Beatrice—the way she was a little over a year ago. No sisters, no family, no _powers_, no great responsibility. But she couldn't just be Beatrice—even her body had begun to repel her alter ego.

She had a job to do, and Brick was part of that.

Something tugged at her wrist, and she realized Brick had ran after her, "Beatrice, what's changed?" he said, after she turned around. She nearly gasped at how much he looked like the old Brick—or perhaps she was exaggerating.

"Nothing's changed," she said quickly, "maybe I've just grown tired of talking to the world's worst criminal as though he's a normal person. Are you going to throw me in jail?" her words made him take a step back, visibly hurt.

"What do you want me to do?" she wrapped herself in a cocoon—if she focused on his crimes, she would be less inclined to kiss him.

_Kiss him? I don't want to kiss him! Not…not even a little._

"Do _something_ I want you to do _something,_"

"I can't really do anything,"

"Then how can you call yourself a leader?"

This hit him close to home, "If you were in my shoes, you'd realize it's not so easy,"

"No. I realize it's not easy. Being a leader is not easy, it's hard. Can't _you_ realize that? Stopping what you've done is not going to be easy, but it's not impossible,"

They stared at each other in silence, Beatrice waiting for his reaction. She took in a shuddering sigh, partially from nerves though mostly from the chill.

" You say you're not a rebel? Prove it. Where do you live?"

She sighed, "1105 Apartment Complex down Austen Rd. Is that enough for you?

He shrugged, and there was another silence between them.

"You don't have to do it alone," she said finally. She could tell he was fighting back a scoff, "I'll help in whatever way I can, you just need to tell me,"

"You can't do anything. A long time ago a similar situation happened. I tried to fight it, but in the end I lost. There's no use fighting. Why are we having this conversation again? The best thing you can do right now, Beatrice, is hide. Please don't hate me. You just don't understand," he said, his voice sounding pained, "and just don't do anything suspicious," he hesitated before he shot up in the air and was gone in seconds.

Beatrice stood and waited, and in a few seconds Bianca came around the corner.

"So, what was it?"

"Nothing relevant," she said, not really in the mood to explain the whole conversation to her sister, "so, when can we meet with those rebels?"

…

The girls had all bought wigs and contacts, and honestly looked nothing like themselves. Beatrice was a stunning brunette with her same green eyes, Bianca had short curly blonde hair paired with brown eyes, and Belle now had black hair and the same black eyes.

They stood in the alleyway of Chez, waiting for Beth to come around and bring them inside, as none of them were told the password.

"Girls?" a warm voice called out, and for the first time, Beatrice saw Beth.

She could understand why Bianca would speak so highly of her, and why Belle was so easily accepting to the idea. The woman appeared very motherly. Her eyes were soft, and kind, and her smile was the same.

Beatrice offered her a smile as confirmation.

"Excellent," Beth said, now walking towards them, "You must be…Beatrice, is that right?" she asked, offering her hand. Beatrice took it with slightly hesitation, "Thank you so much for agreeing to do this. I promise, the Rebels are all very kind people. You might even recognize some of them. Follow me,"

She knocked three times on the boarded up door, and slowly a mechanical voice called out to her, "Pass,"

She wasn't quite sure, but Beatrice thought she heard 'Return,'.

Once inside, Beatrice noticed it didn't look any different than a normal restaurant—aside from the fact that this one was in obvious decay.

"This isn't where most of us stay. This is sort of like the 'mess hall' if you will. You can take off your disguises,"

Reluctantly, though her sisters did so immediately once they had permission, Beatrice removed her wig and contacts, feeling slightly naked in her pink eyes. She blinked a few times to get used to the change, "Where _are_ they?"

Beth gasped.

"What is it?" Bianca asked.

"It's just…the three of you apart, it's difficult to see the resemblances—it's been so long since you were in the public eye. But together? With Beatrice's pink eyes? It's uncanny," her eyes were wide, and the girls stood there awkwardly until she shook her head and led them through the kitchen, into the freezer, past the door at the back, and down creaky old stairs.

The rebellion hide out wasn't much—sleeping bags were speckled all over the old wooden floor and a stage was at the front. Fifty or so people were spaced out, neither of them looking as the girls made their way to the stage.

"Achem," Beth said, once they were atop the stage. She had to do it twice to get everyone—grumbling—to stand in front of the stage. Once they all recognized who they were staring at, a stunned silence filled the air.

A scattered, "It's them," filled the room.

"Quiet, please,"

As she had expected, anger soon replaced the awe, "Where have you been these past ten years? You've let people die!" a male voice was the first to break the silence, and the girls were suddenly faced with silence.

"Please," Beth shouted, her voice stern. It took another few minutes before it quieted down.

"Explain yourselves!" the same voice called out. Beth took a breath, but Beatrice held her hand up.

"Ten years ago, a great battle between good and evil ensued, and good lost. Good had been destroyed. But only one thing can bring back the good: love. Love is greater than all evil, but though good had returned, death was not finished taking lives. Yes, good returned shortly after it had been destroyed, but not with its full potential. We were brought back but without our powers. We remained in hiding for three years, deciding at the age of sixteen that we could longer remain in our old run down home, with reminders of death in every hall way. We decided it was best to go our separate ways, gain new identities and attempt to live as regular citizens, reuniting only if our powers return. But we were triplets, and we were close sisters—seven years was far too long to remain apart. It only worked out that Bianca—or rather, Buttercup, and I regained our powers shortly after being reunited. Belle—sorry, Bubbles as you know her, has yet to gain hers,"

"The girls are commonly known as Bianca, Beatrice and Belle," Beth said, explaining why Beatrice had used different names, pointing to each sister as she went through the aliases.

"Beatrice?" a voice called out, and Beatrice had to narrow her eyes to pinpoint who had spoken.

_Abby. I had never known she was a rebel._

"Abby?" she spoke back, looking to her friend who she hadn't spoken to in months.

Beth cut their little conversation off, "They will be leading the rebellion from now on. We will discuss tactics in Tuesday's meeting. For now, I'd like the girls to go around and get to know each and every one of you—please don't crowd them,"

…

The first person who had approached them was the same man who had begun to heckle them, the girls recognized his voice.

"So, you're really back, eh?" he said. His hair was brown and shaggy, and his eyes the same colour. He wore a black t-shirt and jeans, and his arms carried scars similar to the faint white ones on his neck, though those on his arms were more prominent, "I don't like rules," he said, when he noticed the girls staring.

"Yes, we're really back," Beatrice answered.

"Recognize me?"

Bianca narrowed her eyes, only to widen them immediately after in joy, "Mitch?"

He nodded, a smug smile plastered on his face.

"Why have I never seen you before?"

"I was one of the first few to start a rebellion. I had to go into hiding after I finished high school. I can't believe it. I thought you guys were dead!"

"You and the rest of the world," Beatrice mumbled.

They left at different times, so as not to arouse suspicion from pedestrians; Beatrice was the first to leave. If Brick wouldn't let her help him, she would have to go against him.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>**It took so long to update because I just am not feeling the little Reds interaction, but it was necessary. Hopefully it doesn't feel repetitive. Haha, fun fact, I almost wasn't going to reveal what happened with Boomer and Bubbles. In all honesty, I thought about making a huge fight scene, but this is how it has always stuck-I knew from the very beginning this is how he would react.**

**Interesting-I'm glad you pointed this out. I really wanted someone to notice that. And thank you :$**

**_-You might not see this for a while, but heeehee, thank you for taking the time to review those chapters, they need the love too :P! lol. I hope you didn't give up halfway through :/**

**BubblesxBoomer34 - I FEEL like I've already given you a shout out, but I also feel like you're new. Lol he won't die...yet ;). And I appreciate that you're still trying to review! Here's hoping you continue :)**

**XxXxXxILuvNicoDiAngeloxXxXxX - Wow! Thank you, that means a lot :)**

**Powerpufffan38- Thank you so much! I love those too :) **

**Jassi Forever- Thank you :) And thank you for reviewing!**

**Reality-Sucks-122 - Haha! That IS the reaction I was hoping for :). **

**xX3B.r.o.k.e.n.3Xx - !**


	59. Release of the Xions

**Update:**

**Hi guys! I'm doing another Q&A so I'll be collecting questions. Anything you guys are confused about, ask 'em in the reviews and I'll answer them as best I can! Also be sure to vote on the poll on my profile! Thanks, and enjoy!**

* * *

><p>~Bubbles~<p>

Guilt raged through her body in waves, at the fact that she still hadn't revealed to her sisters that she had gotten her powers back. What started out as a half-truth grew into something big, the longer she kept it.

And now, on top of that, she had told Boomer the truth—and has yet to tell her sisters.

The release of the Xions—as well as the synergy of the two companies (though more importantly Boomer's proposal) was speeding near, and she felt her heart beat with anxiety each time she thought about it.

_When did things get so complicated?_ A memory flashes through her mind—of her life being ripped from her. _Oh._

She wanted to believe the two of them were being careful, but in reality they were being careless—they stole kisses every chance they had, almost with a fear that soon they may no longer be able to, though they knew that was not possible.

She had read books and seen films about forbidden love—and it always seemed so romantic, so desirable. It was her dream as a teenager to love someone so passionately that she would be willing to risk everything for them.

It was not like the movies. She was on edge, constantly, worried that someone would notice something between them—though they were acting the same towards each other. Boomer had even continued to snap at her.

It was a gnawing fear at the back of her head that something wasn't right.

* * *

><p>~Blossom~<p>

The day had arrived like a slap to the face. It was mandatory to watch—immediately after Mr. Morbucks signed over the company, the Xions would be released into the public. There wouldn't be enough to be released worldwide—yet—but just enough for TownsVille. Just enough to sink fright into everyone watching.

The three sisters had gathered at Beatrice's apartment, sitting on her couch to watch what would go down in history as the return of the apocalypse, the first being when the RowdyRuffs took over the world ten years ago.

They waited in anticipation—the event had been going on for almost an hour, now. Above the steps to the town hall Mr. Morbucks was just finishing up signing the contract.

When he finished, he shook hands with an excited looking Him, and a grim faced Mojo Jojo.

The cameras flashed, and in a few minutes the Xions would be released from RRB Corp., to destroy the Rebels.

_"Excuse me,"_ a hesitant voice called out on the screen, bring the attention of the camera to him. It was Boomer, and once the camera landed on him, he knelt down in front of Princess, who looked absolutely appalled.

Brick and Butch looked away, as if unable to watch their brother go through with this.

"Belle…did you know about this?" Beatrice asked. Belle nodded sadly, and put a finger to her lips.

"_Princess…_" he swallowed, "_I've never met a girl quite so magnificent. I want to spend every day for the rest of my life waking up with you…will you…will you marry me?_"

* * *

><p><strong>Brick<strong>

Before, Brick would find it hard not to snicker at his blonde brother's misfortune, but when the day came and his brother was kneeling before Princess, Brick had to look away.

It seemed at that moment, everything had flown out of their hands. He had promised himself he would look into stalling the release of the Xions, but it was an empty promise.

"Princess," his brother began, "I've never met a girl quite so magnificent. I want to spend every day for the rest of my life waking up with you…will you…will you marry me?"

_Here it comes…sorry bro…_

"No," she said, her voice sounding strange.

A gasp filled the live audience, and he was surprised he wasn't gasping himself.

_Did she just say _no_? _

"I don't want to marry you," it returned to its normal frequency, "I don't love you," she scrunched her nose up in disgust. Her father went to her side, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"Princess, you're sure?"

Everyone was wrapped in confusion—in particular those who were involved in the signing of the contract. Amongst them, it was no secret that Mr. Morbucks only agreed to sign over his company if his Princess could marry Boomer.

"Yes, daddy, I'm sure," she pushed her father away.

"_Well then…how scandalous…_" Him said, the latter under his breath, "_Why don't we move along…let's release the Xions,_" he said happily.

Brick looked to his brothers, who had a mixture of emotions obvious on their faces. Boomer looked utterly confused, Butch matched one of anger, and Brick knew he was thinking that he could have done something about this. As for his face, he was certain it carried heavy guilt.

The doors to the town hall were thrown open, and in rows of two marched out what has been classified as 'the perfect man' and 'the perfect woman'.

They had grins plastered onto their face as they moved through the crowd, going on to patrol the streets of Townsville.

He could see Beatrice's face of disapproval in his mind—she was always in his thoughts, practically taking away his logical thinking process. He always feared the day she would realize he wasn't worth her time, and was ready for that day. Though now that it had happened, he wished it was because of something he had control over, not something that was going to happen whether he liked it or not.

_Who are you kidding?_ _You could have stopped this when it was merely an idea._ He thought, and he knew it too. It was simply too late now.

Just like it was too late for him and Beatrice. He could no longer deny the fact that something about her drove him crazy—in a good way. Though he could no longer admit it, either. Being involved romantically with her—with the added risk that she could be a rebel—could be seriously dangerous for the both of them.

He had an image to upkeep to his parents, so that they would relax on his two younger brothers who were ready to risk their lives for the people they love. They may not have told him this directly, but he was their brother, and he knew them better than they knew themselves. Besides, he _was_ the smartest and as the smartest noticing behavioural things such as the ones they were displaying, wasn't that difficult.

"Unbelievable. Can you believe her?" Butch whispered to Brick.

Brick raised an eyebrow, "Nobody embarrasses _my_ brother like that!" he hissed.

"Butch…" Brick began, "We all _hate_ Princess…Boomer was being forced to marry her,"

"Oh…right…"

Despite everything he couldn't help but smirk at the same protectiveness Butch feels over their younger brother. Whatever happens, the three of them are in it together.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: GRR I really wanted to make this chapter long but there just wasn't much more I could do with it other than what I already did. Although I'm for sure uploading another chapter today so I don't think it really matters. These were necessary. Unfortunately folks I do believe this story is in it's final laps. <strong>

**Silaze103- Aha! I don't mind rants at all ! And I think he's gotten a bit nicer :). But he was a jerk back then! Back in the good ol' days. In all honesty, this story probably could have been split into a sequel, but I just preferred continuing it on here. I know there are a lot of chapters but they're not really long ones, so it evens out. I'm very glad you liked the dreams, I worked really hard on 'em! And hopefully you continue the story from chapter 38!**

**KoOlKaTmEoW13 - Now THAT is what I call dedication! I am SO glad you like my story enough that you lose sleep over it lol! Hopefully you got enough sleep after it though :s! **

**If I missed you feel free to yell at me!**

**HOPE YOU LIKED IT :D**


	60. Betrayal

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* * *

><p>~Buttercup~<p>

If the citizens of Townsville thought the streets were empty before—they were certainly in for a shock after the release of the Xions. Very rarely was anyone ever seen outside—nobody wanted to risk being accused by an Xion.

At first, nobody was really sure what they were, and it didn't seem as though they were out often either way. That's when everyone got lulled into a sense of comfort, and the world continued from where they were before. Then, of course, they all learned about the Xions chameleon-like behaviour. The androids studied faces, and then learned from those faces. Every day, maybe even every hour, the Xions changed faces when nobody was watching.

Many people since then have died.

If they have considerable evidence against you, you're destroyed on the spot. They're ruthless, although easily avoidable—just quit your job and hide inside. Or, swear your allegiance to the RRB and do your best to stay off the streets.

They can't break into your house, unless you're already convicted.

Bianca picked up her pace as the wind blew in, December may be her favourite month but that didn't mean it wasn't freezing. Her jacket hood was up over her face, half constricting her vision as she rushed to the Rebellion head quarters.

When she reached the run down restaurant, something she had trouble getting used to, she knocked three times on its boarded up door.

"Pass?" the door hissed back.

"Return," she whispered, slightly annoyed at having to bow down to an automated security system. Beth was the only one who stayed at the Chez hide out from 1-3 PM, and Bianca couldn't see the point in having to say the password when Beth could simply let her in.

Ever since the release of the Xions, the Rebels have been extremely careful—meetings were few and spread out over time. They had even created a new hideout underground—a little ways from the restaurant. Beth was to remain in the old headquarters, for reasons Bianca was not exactly sure of, but she didn't question. No-one was to visit her unless on strict Rebel business—otherwise it was too dangerous.

Bianca was never one to follow rules.

"You really must stop risking your identity to bring me groceries," Beth said once Bianca had shut the door behind her. The restaurant had a murky smell to it, and though it had always been the hide out for Rebels, the main floor once held a four star restaurant. It had now turned into a mess hall of sorts.

"Oh please, and let you eat the garbage the Rebels provide you with?" Bianca said playfully.

"It's…it's not _so_ bad," Beth tried.

"Their bread is as rough as a diamond," she was exaggerating, but she got the point across.

"Aright, I know, gimme the bags," Beth reached for the bags and disappeared through the swinging doors, coming back moments later, "how are things going? Any luck with _Belle_?" Beth had severe difficulties sticking to the girls' aliases.

"Still no sign of her powers," Bianca said sadly. The androids had been released a month ago, and the girls had to sit back and watch, unable to do anything without Belle. If they revealed their identities before her powers had returned, she would be dead for sure. They spent most of their days keeping up the former plan—though; Beatrice had given up on her part—and spent the night training at the Rebellion Center. There wasn't a rebel who didn't know the girls had returned—despite their protests.

Of course, though they couldn't carry out the plan, they had one in place. Once Belle was ready, the girls would reveal themselves in order to distract the Xions from guarding the RRB Corp., and a small group of Rebels would sneak in, and literally pull the plug on the androids. The other Rebels insisted on joining the fight against the Xions, much to the girls' dismay.

_The less they know, the safer they are._ Beth had insisted that they all had a right to know, as well as one to choose their fate, and Bianca had lost that battle.

"She must feel terrible,"

Bianca shrugged—talking about feelings was more of something Beatrice and Belle did together.

Just in that moment, the door to the hideout burst open, and standing in the threshold was none other than Katie, and two Xions who had her in a death grip.

Before she had time to think, Beth had shoved her aside, sending her sailing behind the tables, blocking her from the Xions' view.

When she captured what was happening, she stood up, only to be forced back down by Beth, who threw a chair her way.

"No. You mustn't give yourself away!" Beth said, with a ferocity Bianca didn't know she had.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" it was Katie who spoke this time, barely intelligible through her tears.

"It's alright Katie. This would have happened sooner or later," Beth said, standing her ground. Bianca felt her hands shake—**_I'm going to die_**—flashed back into her mind. Beth gasped as the Xions trapped her in a purple energy field.

"They promised my parent's freedom,"

_Oh, Katie…_ Though what happened next, even Bianca didn't see coming.

"That was a lie," said the male Xion. That was what she hated _most_ about the androids—how human-like they sounded, even though they had virtually no human emotions. The male's palm sprouted a spear that shot through the back of Katie, breaking her spine and protruding through her rib cage, the sounds amplified to Bianca's super active hearing.

_I can still help her. I can still save her. I just need to get up now—_

"Bianca! No!" Beth screamed, before Bianca even had a chance to stand up, "You would only make things worse,"

**_"Well can't you do something? Fight them?"_**

**_"No. The Xions are much stronger, faster and crueller than I or anyone else ever could be. They could kill me in seconds,"_** She knew better than to fight two alone.

She had never felt so helpless before. Katie was dying, and there was virtually nothing she could do about it. The young teen gurgled on the floor.

The Xions turned their attention to Beth, the female speaking now, "Beth DeFranc, neé Jones, wife to Louis DeFranc?"

She swallowed, "Yes,"

"Louis DeFranc, leader of the largest rebellion in Europe, deceased ten years,"

"Yes,"

"You have been running from us,"

"Yes,"

"You are the current leader of the Townsville Rebellion?" the male asked this time, though both their hands began to glow white.

"Yes," that was a lie—the girls had become the leaders of the Rebellion.

"That is a felony, you are aware?"

"Yes,"

"Beth Jones—you have committed false identity, you have hid from the law, and you have committed treason, the price of which is immediate death,"

Beth took in a deep breath—one she wasn't allowed to finish, because the androids fired the pure white energy straight at her. Beth didn't die as Katie did—when the light diminished, all that was left of her was a small pile of gray ashes, and Bianca couldn't hide any longer. Her pain was evident in her cry, and she was no longer concerned about the androids still standing in the door way.

She felt her muscles freeze as she realized the Xions were now focused on her.

"Name," the male spoke. They had been taught this in meetings at the Rebellion—the Xions don't use scanners to determine who you are, they are more like walking lie detectors—though a thousand times more accurate.

Bianca, over the years, had become a _very_ good liar. It was almost second nature to her, so her heart held no fear when she spoke.

"Bianca Jones," she had decided to use a different last name—slightly in homage to Beth.

"Relation to Beth Jones?"

"None,"

"Reason for appearance at a known Rebellion hide out?" the female spoke this time.

"I'm homeless," she lied.

"Prove your allegiance," they said at the same time.

"I am grateful for the RowdyRuff Corporation and everything they have done for our world, and, specifically me. Without them our world would be a terrible place. I am further grateful at the new security androids, the Xions, which are helping to weed out the bad people in this world,"

"Clear," they both said. And just like that, they changed from fierce military people, to calm run-of-the-mill people. Once they had stepped out of the doorway, Bianca ran to Katie's side who was, surprisingly, still alive.

Though barely, "It's my fault. I jus-I just wanted to see my mom and dad," with each word she shook slightly, blood pouring from her mouth.

"I know, honey," Bianca was overwhelmed with the sudden need to comfort Katie—perhaps because she needed to be comforted herself. Maybe that was why she held Katie's head in her lap, softly petting her head and whispered words of comfort to her until she had her final breath.

…

Bianca signalled for the Rebels to gather in the 'mess-hall' immediately, and waited while they all gathered in the cellar, to be taken upstairs. Her face was still tear-stained, though everyone was polite enough not to comment on it. Beatrice and Belle were not there, for obvious reasons. Everyone was under surveillance these days.

"What I am about to show you may upset some of you, just as a warning," she had since then cleaned up Katie's blood, and lay her gently beside the pile of ashes that was Beth's body, but the site of them was still gruesome, even to her.

She had seen many deaths in the past ten years—but someone like Beth to die so quickly before her eyes, that would certainly leave a scar. But she would not cry in front of all these people, she was rarely one to cry at all.

"What is it?" Someone called. Even after all this time, she still hadn't learned everyone's name.

She swallowed. She wished she had asked Beatrice to be here after all—this really wasn't her thing, "Two Xions stopped by today," she said slowly. Gasps filled the room, and questions about whether or not they knew about everyone else. Fear ensued, "Everyone _relax_. Yes, they know this is the Rebellion headquarters, but they do not know who else is involved. The reason I've called you all today…the former head of the Rebellion is dead, and Katie too,"

"Katie's dead? How did this happen?" a chorus of similar reactions rippled through the crowd.

She was confused, "Yes…Katie's dead…but so is Beth,"

Again, it seemed nobody had heard that Beth was dead.

"People—Beth is dead!" she screamed, and everyone returned to silence.

"Well it was going to happen sooner or later…" someone said. People voiced their agreement.

"I mean, why do you think we told her to stay here? She's the one they're looking for, if she died at their hands, they'd fool themselves into comfort,"

_Wait a minute…they planned this? They've been planning this all along? Beth has been like a mother to each and every one of them! _

Bianca saw read. She had to take a few deep breaths to restrain herself from seriously maiming everyone in the room, though it was what she wanted to do most. Her eyes scanned the room for her old friend, before finally landing on him—he appeared guilty.

"Mitch. You knew about this?"

"B, it was for the greater good-," he said, pleading with her.

"Oh, don't give me that bullshit! So this is what you do, huh? You just turn on each other? Did she know about this?"

_She couldn't have known. She would have told me, right?_

"Well…" someone began, continuing less confidently after the look she sent her, "She knew she had to die…but she _might_ not have known we were planning this…"

"How could you all! How dare you betray her!"

"She knew she had to die to distract them!"

"Don't you think it would have done her a little justice to _know_ you were all planning on turning her in—Oh my God! You _purposefully_ sent Katie, didn't you?"

More guilt.

"Look, it said rewards were given to those who gave away Rebel hideouts. So we lead them on a fake trail using Katie…we honestly didn't know she'd die!"

"Although that does help our knowledge of them…"

"Are you kidding me?"

"Well it's not like it matters! Katie wasn't anyone important…she doesn't even have any family!"

"You all make me sick," she shook with anger, "You dare to think you're better than them? You're all villains. Every last one of you. The Powerpuff Girls are no longer involved with you," she turned on her heels and stormed out, letting them stew on what she just said.

In truth, she probably shouldn't have made a decision without her sisters, but this was something she could no longer stand to support. She paused once more beside the body of Katie and the remains of Beth, unable to leave without saying one last goodbye.

"Katie, you were so young. God, you were so young," she was crying again, "I'm sorry you were dragged into this. I'm sorry you were promised something that would never be given to you,"

"And Beth…you were like the mother I never had. You always looked after me with such a fierce protectiveness. I love you," then she said the same thing she said to the Professor, after he had died and she was left alone to her thoughts, "I wish it were me instead of you, but I won't let you down,"

Suddenly she understood what Beth meant when she spoke to Bianca about her given name, which now felt like a lifetime ago.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Well?<strong>

**ButtercupXButchForever Ha! Appreciate that :). I'll answer your question in the Q&A :)**

**ArtemisDragonrider- It's good to know I'm not alone :). Thank you for your kind words, they're really appreciated and I'm glad you like my story and hopefully you stick with it long enough to see your shout out :).**

**kbomb234 - heehee :)**


	61. Complicated

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><p>~Blossom~<p>

It was impossible to comfort her raven-haired sister, and it had always been impossible. When Bianca is upset, she remains cold and detached, and Beatrice _still_ hadn't gotten the full story, but she knew enough to know that the Rebellion had betrayed the girls deeply.

She knew it was suspicious of her to be walking around Townsville past six o'clock, but Bianca had been lying in Beatrice's bed face down for nearly three days now, and it was bringing down Beatrice's mood, as bad as that sounds.

Belle had come over to spend the night, and she has been sitting beside Bianca with her hand softly petting her head for a few hours now. Beatrice felt entirely helpless and completely to blame. She had a terrible feeling something was wrong with the Rebellion, but she had kept her feelings to herself for the most part.

_If I was just there—If I had said something to Beth, or to Bianca or to anyone…_She was covering herself in guilt, but she couldn't help it. Bianca was her younger sister—if only by so much—and it had always been her responsibility to protect her as well as Belle.

She was just so lost. What were they going to do now?

…

She hadn't expected to arrive at Mitch Michelson's door, but she couldn't help it—she deserved a full explanation, and since Bianca wasn't currently able to do that, she went to the only other person she really _knew_.

It was a shabby apartment building, down in the wrong part of Townsville. Windows were boarded up and spray painted. She buzzed the number that said was his, and waited in front.

"_Yes?_" a voice called through the intercom.

"Mitch, it's me, Beatrice, open up,"

"_I thought B said you guys wanted nothin' t'do with us_,"

She rolled her eyes, "Mitch." She hissed.

…

His apartment had a murky smell to it, and the wallpaper on his wall was peeling. There was a single couch in front of a small television to the right of the door, and to the left was a small kitchen.

"It's not much, but, I don't stay here often anyway. What did you want?"

She narrowed her eyes; maybe it was a bad idea to come here after all.

**"Bianca, what's the matter? What is it?" Beatrice had said, after a red eyed Bianca showed at her door asking if she could stay a few nights. **

**"We can't be with the Rebellion anymore," she said between shaky breaths, "just…Xions, Beth and Katie. They're dead, and the Rebellion knows and they did it with the Xions. AND MITCH KNEW," Bianca was now fully crying, and completely incomprehensible. **

**Instead of pushing Bianca and upsetting her more, Beatrice hugged her sister and sat with her until she was all cried-out. **

It wasn't much to work with, considering out of the three people she named, only one was still alive. So she really had no other options at this point.

"What happened?"

"With what?"

"Don't play stupid. Why else would I be here?"

He looked down, "I didn't have much say in it…" he said, before he began explaining to Beatrice what happened at the Rebellion.

"You know, I understand that we haven't spoken to you in years, but this is a low blow. How dare you not tell us?"

"I _told_ you I don't have much say in—,"

"And you know something else? I thought the Rebellion was supposed to be doing _good_! You people have done nothing but hide away and now you've killed two people!"

"Beatrice. You're not letting me talk," he said calmly, as he lit up a cigarette, blowing it in her face to get her attention.

"What would you have to say?" she coughed, her hands trying to shove the smoke away.

"You can't trust the Rebellion. First it was Beth, and I'm pretty sure I'm next,"

"Wait. What?"

He sighed, "Look. Once upon a time the Rebellion did good. We stole food to give to those who were suddenly homeless, and held illegal hospitals underground. We gave homes to those who were next on the hit-list. Hell, we even broke people outta jail. We stood a good chance against 'em,"

"Well, what changed?"

"Leaders began to be killed off, and without a good leader, everyone became scared. Like sheep without a Shepard. As if they suddenly realized what we were doin' was dangerous," he scoffed and took another drag, "Ya know Jim?"

Beatrice racked her brain to match a face to the name—none came to mind.

"Prolly 'cause he doesn't like to _be_ known. He's in the rebellion, but he never shows up t'meetings. People like him are the anti-Rebellion, though dey don't call 'emselves that. They're the ones who keep the fear runnin' in everyones. They're da true cowards," again he took another drag, "They make deals with Him, so as to not get 'emseleves killed. If you're a true fighter, a true Rebel, you're next. And I gotta say, it's good for yous three that he never shows up t'meetings and everyone was sworn to secrecy. 'Cause if one of the anti-Rebels knew 'bout you? You'd be gone in seconds,"

He shook his head.

"Why didn't you tell us this before? Why are you just telling me this now?"

"You ain't never asked. 'Sides, it's not safe for me to be tellin' you this kinds of stuff. Only reason I'm sayin' so now, is 'cause I feel death callin' my name. Beth was the leader. I'm just the deputy,"

…

"We can't tell Bianca. Not just yet. If she knew there was this whole conspiracy about the Rebellion—it might completely alter her opinion of Beth," Belle said, once Beatrice had retold what she just recently found out.

"I know. But—even though I didn't know Beth that well—I don't think she had any idea about this, either. It seemed as though few people knew about it,"

"Bianca said Beth always saw the good in people," Belle said.

Beatrice sighed, _It reminds me of someone else I know…_but she didn't say anything.

"Belle—no. _Bubbles_, do you have something you'd like to tell me?"

Belle gasped, "Um…no? Why?"

"You're forgetting I always know when you're lying. How long have they been back? It was difficult to see the change in you, when it had not happened to myself, but now that I've had my powers back for a while, I can see a difference in you versus normal humans,"

A blush crept across Belle's cheeks, "Aw, Bea, I'm so sorry for not telling you. It's just, when they first came back, I didn't want to say something in case it was only temporary. Then you guys would have treated me like a wounded puppy. And it just grew, and grew. They've been back for a while now,"

"It's alright, Belle. I just wish you had told me when it happened,"

Belle smiled sheepishly, "So does this mean we're going to go through with the plan soon? How is it going to work without the Rebels breaking in?"

"I thought about that. It'll have to be you to shut it down, you work there anyway, it shouldn't be too hard,"

"What? And let you guys fight by yourselves?"

"Trust me, Belle. We'll be fine," they hugged and shortly after Belle decided to go to bed—the three of them would be sleeping in the same bed tonight. Beatrice allowed herself to smile in success—she was still the older sister, and she still had it.

* * *

><p>~Bubbles~<p>

Belle groaned, she had been in Beatrice's bathroom for at least ten minutes now. She was grateful her sisters were still sleeping.

She splashed more water on her face, mentally cursing herself.

She held her head in her hands, leaning over the counter. There was no denying it now, though she still refused to officially prove it.

She left a hastily scrawled note on the kitchen counter before creeping out of the house to return to the condo.

_I shouldn't have…I knew I shouldn't have. When did I become so stupid?_ It could have been avoided if she didn't need to be with him with a hunger deep inside her soul. It could have been avoided had she had any self restraint, too.

_And now they know about my powers, and there is no avoiding it. How am I supposed to fight in this condition?_

She unlocked the door to the condo, and because she knew for a fact he would be home while his brothers would not be, she felt the freedom to say, "Boomer, I'm home!" she smiled brightly, as she turned around to shut the door. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him sitting in a lounge chair, "I've missed you like crazy,"

She sighed as she turned to face him, and he swept her into his arms.

That moment right there couldn't have been any more perfect. Being in his arms so intimately she felt so at peace, their hearts beating as one. Time could have stopped and she wouldn't have noticed, or cared.

"Well then," a familiar snotty voice called from behind the two. They quickly pulled away and distanced themselves, "Boomer. How quickly you've moved on,"

"Princess," he said stiffly.

"A bit of a downgrade, if you ask me,"

"I don't recall anyone asking," he said.

"You know, seeing you two together so quickly after I ended things…almost makes me think you were _cheating _on me,"

"That's ridiculous," it was Belle who spoke this time, and Boomer nodded in agreement.

Princess shot her attention to Belle, and her eyes widened, as if seeing her for the first time.

"Oh my God," she gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth, "a month ago, I was on my way here when I saw the strangest thing. Someone was falling out of the window, but at the last minute they flew down. So I knew it had to be one of you three. It was rainy, and I was pretty far away, but I could see a blonde and blue figure. _Two_ of them actually. I thought 'Hmm, looks like he's finally gotten sick of her," she paused to interpret their reactions. Belle couldn't see Boomer's face, but she knew her own portrayed that of utter shock.  
><em><br>Oh God. Oh God she knows. She knows. Oh God what am I going to do?_She couldn't look Boomer in the eyes.

"Imagine my surprise when I noticed the two of you colliding—rather intimately—and floating up in the air. At first, I thought it was Boomer simply supporting you. But now...now it all makes sense. You're her. You're Bubbles, aren't you? How did I not see it before?"

"Princess, you're acting crazy. She's dead," it was Boomer who spoke.

Princess shook her head, smirking, "You know, I bet it was YOU who broke into my house and told me to break it off with Boomer," she pointed harshly at Belle.

"Wait, what?" Boomer asked, and Belle felt a blush creep onto her cheeks.

She held her hand up, "At first I thought it was Boomer, but his alibi was pretty down pat. After I realized that it wasn't him, I was scared. Ha! Could you imagine? So I went to go break it off-then I saw that little show between the two of you. I was so upset, I went home, unable to face you. Of course, I ended up breaking it off _anyway._You know I was a bit worried about having to come here to pick up my things. I was hoping there wouldn't be anyone home. Funny how things turn out, huh?"

"And it all makes sense now. All of it. Boomer wasn't supporting you-you were BOTH floating. Bubbles is alive..."

"Princess, you can't tell anyone!" Belle begged.

"I'm not going to tell anyone," she said softly, her eyes twinkling with mischievous intent.

"Alright, Princess, what is it you want?"

She narrowed her eyes, and smiled, "I want her to suffer. I want her to be sent to jail for life, while you and I get married and I live happily ever after, while she simply watches from a high security prison. This is what I want in return for my silence,"

"No.I won't let that happen. Go ahead, Princess, tell everyone. I'll protect her,"

She gasped, "Oh! Fine!"

"No. Boomer. That I can't let happen, it's just too dangerous. Don't worry, I'll be fine," she pleaded with him.

_Surely he'll be able to see that there is too much at risk to go against Princess right now. _

"Good choice, Bubbles. Go ahead Boomer. Go call the police to lock her up."

She smiled, pleased with herself, and stared down Boomer until he called the police, her hazel eyes filled with what Belle though must have been pure evil.

"They'll be here soon," he said, completely devoid of emotion. She smiled weakly at him, her hand subconsciously trailing to her stomach.

He leaned towards her, and her breath hitched. It didn't matter that Princess was in the room, "One," he breathed, tilting her head, "last," he said softly, his lips floating above hers, "time," he said, before softly planting his lips on hers.

...

She wished Princess hadn't called the news stations, but there was no way around it. The Xions were hauling her into the police trucks, bruising her arms as Boomer spoke to numerous news stations, explaining why she was being sent away for life.

In the corner of her eye she could see Princess smirking with her arms crossed.

_You haven't won at all, Princess._

Once she got her free phone call, she called her sisters and decided to finally tell them the full truth.

"_What? You _told_ him?"_ Beatrice hissed. Belle could tell she was panicking, so she did her best to keep her voice as calm as possible.

_No more secrets._

"Yes, but he responded rather nicely. The only reason I'm telling you guys this is because I don't want you guys to hurt him. I know it's bad that I told him, and I know it's bad that I kept it from you, among other things. But you can't focus on that. Nothing bad happened, so what's the big deal?"

"The big _deal_, Belle, is that now fucking Princess knows," Bianca spoke this time.

"But if I stay in here, she won't say anything. I know you wanted me to be the one to shut _their_ power off while you distract them instead of you-know-who, and don't worry, I can still do that. Just give me a sign the day before you plan on doing it, and I'll figure out a way to get out of here,"

Her sisters sighed on the phone, "_Whatever you say, Belle. We could just as easily break you out _now_,"_

"Yes, and then how would we do against the androids?" silence, "See? Just leave it alone for now,"

She would have to spend a little while in prison, after all. She hung up the phone and was escorted back to her windowless, bar-less titanium cell.

_No more secrets…_She thought again, _Well, maybe just one._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: I'm worried it's too much like a soap opera right now. I mean, opinions please? OHYA, leave questions you crazy awesome peeps. I start school tomorrow...OH THE HUMANITY. But no, what it means is that updates will be a bit slower from now on. <strong>

**LoveLaurel101- Thank you so much :) haha and thanks for advertising! **


	62. Time

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* * *

><p><em>Him.<em>

Everyone was Him's puppet, in the end. They would all end up doing exactly what Him wanted.

_Everyone except those insolent girls. I thought I had gotten rid of them long ago…they just won't go down!_ Him thought in rage. Everyone must fit into Him's plan, they must all do as Him pleases. They must all feel misery, so that Him may be the happiest.

But _they_ refused to. _They_ continued on, their very existence going against everything Him has worked for. Flames rose to match Him's rage.

As if to further Him's anger, the boys—could they really be called that anymore?—_still_ hadn't figured it out. What could Him have expected from the counterparts of the very beings he so despised? It wasn't as if the boys were _born_ evil. They were merely super powered little boys who were raised to be evil, though they could never discover that. Who knows what they might do if they knew that.

Him was aware of the boys' repression. The death of the PowerPuff Girls at their hands was their first murder, though it certainly wasn't their last. Him made sure to that. Him knew there would be repercussions for forcing three young teenagers to kill their counterparts, but Him also knew it would harden them, and Him was right in the end. Ever since Him had figured out the three girls who had suddenly captured the boys' attention was the very same girls he thought he had gotten rid of ten years ago, Him had kept a close eye on his 'children', though a certain blonde had figured out a way to block Him out, no matter how hard Him tried, Boomer's movements were a blank screen.

One moment Princess was saying no to his proposal, the next, the engagement was back on (something about her being 'camera-shy') and his maid—who Him had figured out to be Bubbles—was sent to a high security prison. Him was unable to understand what was happening with the youngest RowdyRuff, and no amount of 'training' could make him speak.

Him would have to reveal the true identities of the girls himself, it seemed.

"_How _tedious_,_" Him said to himself. Him sighed and called the boys to his side, and waited for them to arrive.

* * *

><p>~Bubbles~<p>

Prison was awful, as she expected it to be. Even though it was a high security prison, it wasn't filled with highly dangerous criminals. No, this prison contained formerly powerful people of the world, if they weren't already killed off.

A few times she had seen Ms. Bellum, who it is well known has been in prison for over ten years now. Ms. Bellum hadn't recognized Belle, to her surprise.

"Ms. Bellum!" she had called on instinct, once she recognized the voluptuous redhead.

She turned around slowly, as if the life had been sucked from her, "I haven't been called that in years," her voice was no longer as soft and knowing as it was all those years ago. It was hardened, cold. Similar to how Bianca had responded the first time Belle recognized her, "you must be new here," she said.

"Is it that obvious?" Belle replied, feeling slightly awkward and nervous at the chance Ms. Bellum might respond in similar fashion when she realized who Belle really was.

"Piece of advice? Don't talk to anybody, don't look at anybody, and keep your mouth shut. We're all here," she lowered her voice, "we're all here not because we're criminals, but because we had connections—but we weren't all that powerful. If they catch on that you somehow have a hold on everyone here, you'll be dead in seconds. Especially with the Xions replacing almost all of the prison guards,"

Belle nodded vigorously. She had kept to her cell since that day, only exiting to have a meal.

Today, she had received her signal.

Jack, her prison guard—the man who was assigned to watch her every movement—who had yet to be replaced by an Xion, called her to the titanium door, looking at her through the small window.

"A message came for you," he said, his voice slightly muffled.

Belle liked Jack. She wasn't sure how he got this high up, but she knew he wasn't a corrupt man and that he took his job seriously, even though she was positive he hated what he had to do. She had weaseled out parts of his life when she was bored, and she knew his family was a line of cops, that he had three kids—two girls and a boy, and his wife stayed at home to keep them safe. The only reason he hasn't been killed off yet, is because he does exactly what he's told to do.

"What was it?" she responded, goosebumps travelling up her back. She already had a feeling what the message would say.

"Seven-thirty," he said, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, "she said you would know what that meant,"

"What time is it now?"

He looked down, presumably at his watch, "Three-thirty…why?" he narrowed his eyes, "What are you planning?"

_Four hours? They gave me four hours? How am I supposed to break out of here and into RRB corp with FOUR hours?_

"Sorry, did you say something?" she said once she had snapped back into reality.

"I said, what are you planning, Belle?" He never referred to her by her first name, usually he called her "oh-seven-seven-nine" regarding the numbers on her shirt.

"Nothing, _Jack_," she never referred to him by any name at all.

…

An hour had passed and she still had no idea what to do. A dark thought passed into her mind, _Just burst through the door and fly through the ceiling._ She seriously contemplated that idea, not thinking about the cons—the Xions would see, hell would break loose, Jack would lose his job, or worse, be killed. A lot of other people would die too.

_Wait a minute…Jack._

If today was the day the girls revealed their identity anyway, she knew what she had to do.

She ran to the titanium door and knocked on the glass. In seconds, Jack appeared on the other side, his turquoise eyes narrowing in suspicion once more.

"What is it?" he asked tentatively.

She took a deep breath, "I need you to let me out of here,"

At first, he didn't reply. Then, he burst out into laughter, "Good one," he said, still laughing.

"No, really. I don't know how to put this, so I'll just say it. I'm…I'm Bubbles," She tried to say that as loudly as possible—so he could hear it over his laughter and through the glass—but not so loudly that passersby could hear.

"You're joking, right? As if I hadn't heard that one before. Though, it has been a few years," he said, on a more serious tone.

She responded by floating up, then floating back down.

"How are you doing that?" he asked.

"How do you _think_? Now please, I don't have much time,"

"Even if you _are_ her, I can't do that. I'd get myself killed. I have a family to go home to. Besides, why now?"

"Because today's the day we fight the Xions. And Jack, I promise, I won't let you die," she said seriously.

"No. I can't,"

…

Another hour had passed, and Belle's door creaked open. She rushed to it, and saw Jack standing there, his eyes solemn.

"If you want to attract as little attention as possible, I'll have to walk you three quarters of the way there. From there, you can 'overpower' me, and rush out. Once outside, fly up as quickly as possible and be out of sight,"

She nodded with perfect understanding.

"Put handcuffs on, like you usually do. Don't worry, I can break out of them," she held her hands out.

The walk had been going smoothly, and they had reached the three-quarter point. She ripped her hands out of his grasp, and shoved him down.

"Oh no!" he said, his voice over the top, "Get her!"

What they didn't plan for, was the Xions jumping into action, some of them transforming from prison guards, the others from the prisoners themselves. When the two caught on that not only were they going after her, but Jack himself, Belle jumped into action, ripping the handcuffs off her hands to defend Jack.

"Get off of him!" she screamed, her sonic scream disorienting many of the Xions.

_Thought so. None of the boys have that power, so how can the Xions be insusceptible to it? _

"Jack, take my hand, I'm taking you with me!" she reached down to grab at him, but he shook his head at her, pointing to his legs—or rather, lack thereof. A leg was missing, and the other had a deep wound gushing through it. She had distracted the Xions halfway through their attack at Jack. He wasn't dead, but the wound was deep enough, "I'll fix you! Don't worry, come on!" she wrapped his around her shoulder, trying to move quickly as she saw the Xions start to get back up, as well as more from around the corner.

"No. Go save the world. Go give my kids a better place to grow up in. I don't want to live my life paralyzed from the bottom down. I'd rather die fighting," he ripped his hand down, and pushed at her.

She hesitated. It was against her instinct to leave him there, "GO!" he screamed. She nodded fiercely, zooming out the door and into the sky, towards RRB Corp, the tears stinging her eyes as she flew.

_There will be no deaths in vain._

* * *

><p>~Buttercup~<p>

Bianca was certain her sister felt the same way, and there was now no doubt that Belle felt the same way.

_Blabbermouth._ _She could have been killed._ But she wasn't, in fact, she had said, Boomer responded with open arms. _Would Butch respond the same way?_ But Boomer was the sensitive sibling, Butch was completely the opposite. There's no way he would respond with punches and kicks.

The subject of revealing themselves to the RowdyRuff Boys wasn't even up for discussion with Beatrice. That was why Bianca was so sure that Beatrice had fallen for Brick, in a similar manner to the crush she developed for him when she was thirteen. In fact, it was that very crush that fuelled her denial today. As soon as she had accepted her feelings for him, he turned on her and literally killed her.

But people can change, can't they?

"Alright," her red headed sister re-entered Bianca's living room, this time clad in all black, "how's this?" she pivoted.

"I still don't understand why you're trying on outfits. The last three looked fine, too. Shouldn't we be going to the town centre by now?"

"_Because_, Bianca, these people haven't seen Blossom in ten years. I want to look good, alright? So what do you think?"

"Don't wear black. Just…wearing black leggings with that light pink tee shirt you have and be done with it!"

"Oh! Good idea,"

Fifteen minutes passed and Beatrice was finally ready, "You know, after today, you're gonna have to start calling me Blossom again," she said, excitement dripping from her voice.

…

They knew the Town Centre would be empty, and they knew their presence would attract Xions, who would be confused as to what the two of them were doing when there was nobody else there. They were right, of course, and it wasn't long until a group of Xions had approached them.

"State your business," the female to Bianca's left said.

"What, we're not allowed to be out of our house?"

"State your business," it repeated. The two sisters looked at each other hesitantly, waiting for the signal that would prove Belle had escaped from prison. The screens surrounding the town centre flicked on, and sure enough, was Belle's mug shot, with the words 'WANTED' pasted underneath.

It was time.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Thank you to all of you who waited patiently. The homework load so far is slowing down, so I will be updating once more this weekend FOR SURE. LOL. Sorry...Hope it was worth the wait!<strong>

**Oh YEAH. On another note, I happen to have a youtube channel if any of you guys are interested in that :3 or if not...forget I said anything... **

**And yes, it's ending soon :(! **

**BetaTheRemix - Thank you very much :) Sorry for updating so long! And what DID happen? Muahahahaha**

**KiraKiraSparkles- I'm cruel. And thank you :)! That's so nice of you to say haha. **

**MissLGShine- I think this may or may not have answered your question.**

**moonlightwarmth - I might and might not. Like I mentioned in this chapter, they're not so eager.**

**qwerty007- Sorry for missing you! Thank you for the long review, but it's not just the length, it's the depth that's important. And yes I read that too :$**

**DeathTheKitty - I'd watch this movie! LOL. Thank you!**

**Daynasaur - Hehe.**

**AutumnBlayzeOffline- Teehee thank you :)**


	63. Build Up

**Brick**

Brick had showed up early to the meeting, as he normally did. Not even Him had shown up yet, but Brick didn't mind. Being in Him's waiting room alone gave him the perfect opportunity to think—about something that had been itching at the back of his mind for a long time now.

_Something is off about her._ He hated that he continued to think about her, that she ate away at his thoughts, but there was something about her that he just couldn't place, something he was aware that deep down he knew what it was, but for whatever reason he wasn't willing to accept it.

At first he had thought her to be a Rebel, but as soon as he had said it out loud, he himself realized how ridiculous that sounded. Beatrice a Rebel? In no way. He just wanted to hold her, to get to know her better, to have her think the world of him. Never before had he wished he were just a plain guy, not a criminal who took over the world, than he had at that exact moment.

And like every other time he thought about Beatrice, his thoughts trailed off to a _different_ girl. One he envied, even though she was long since gone. Was he born evil? Or was he simply raised that way? Was the option of being like her, being a Hero, not a coward or a villain always there?

Is it too late now to change his ways? To join the revolt against, well, himself?

_If I could have her…or either one of them, I would do anything. I would throw it all away. Why am I only realizing this now? Why am I only accepting this now?_

And again, the awful thought that by some cruel twist of fate—the thought that had been re-entering his brain frequently since their last fight—Beatrice and Blossom were the same person resurfaced in his mind.

_What I would give if that were only true…_

His thoughts were taken from his mind at the appearance of his adoptive step-father, "_Ahh, Brick, always the eager one. Why don't you step into my office for a little…**private**__meeting?_"

Brick shrugged, and followed Him in.

* * *

><p><strong>Butch<strong>

For once, Butch decided he ought to show up on time, given Him's current blessing.

He thought back to his previous visit to Him's office, after he found out about Bianca's restaurant being shut down.

**"_No_." Him had said.**

**"But they're a good restaurant!"**

**"_Hardly. Perhaps they have attractive waitresses_," he said, with a taunting glare, "_but their food is mediocre, and they're bringing down our income,_"**

**"That's a lie! They're the best restaurant still standing,"**

**"_I do not want to hear anything more about this! They are being shut down and I don't want to discuss this or HER anymore,"_**

**"But-,"**

**"_Dismissed,_"**

**'_Don't let your fear get in the way of your heart'_ Belle's words echoed heavily in his mind at that moment. What he was about to do could very well put him in a terrible situation, but the way he felt about her—the way she looked when he found her…it wasn't something he wanted to continue.**

**"The only reason you're shutting them down, is because of the…the way I _feel_ about Bianca, isn't it?"**

**Him seemed surprised, "_Look at you…using words like feel,_"**

**"Look, Him, I get it, okay? I get that you don't want me to be with her because you think it'll make me all soft or whatever. But it won't, I swear. She's as tough as me, and keeping me away from her is only gonna be bad for you,"**

**"_Heavy words, Butch. Dangerous, even,_" Butch knew he was putting his life on the line.**

**"Well, exactly. That's how you know I'm serious," **

**There was a large silence between the two of them, and Him seemed to seriously be considering letting Butch stay with Bianca. **

**"_The restaurant will remain shut down…but…the two of you can do as you please,_"**

It wasn't expected, and Butch still wasn't sure if Him had ulterior motives, but he wasn't ready to complain just yet. He hadn't spoken to Bianca in a while, not since the death of her boss—or mother, something like that. He knew she didn't want to speak with him, and he understood why. An Xion had killed her, for reasons unbeknownst to him.

There wasn't much he could do, but if their roles were switched, he would want space from the person who helped build the Xion's immunity too.

"_Butch! Come on in, **join the party**,_" Butch rolled his eyes. Sometimes Him could be really weird.

* * *

><p>~Bubbles~<p>

She was high up in the air, doing her best to avoid being seen by anyone who might be looking up when she realized she had reached her destination. She shot down, landing gracefully and opening the doors to RRB Corp. as lightly as possible. She smiled at the woman in the lobby, who smiled back.

"Belle, nice to see you again," the woman said. Belle smiled in response, and walked towards the elevator as fast as possible, before the woman could remember that Belle was supposed to be in prison. She pressed the button repeatedly, before it finally opened. Just as she was about to walk in, the person who grew to be the only one she wanted flew into her, sending the both of them flying.

"Boomer!" she said, her voice muffled.

"Bubbles?" he yelled.

"Shh!" she said, pointing to the woman in the lobby, who hadn't seemed to notice.

"Oh right, sorry. What are you doing here?" he said, picking himself up and pulling her up after, "How did you get out?"

"I have my ways…it's a long story,"

"Why did you break out?" he said, shocked. He saw right through her sometimes.

"Today's the day, Boomer, I told you we had a plan,"

"Bubs, you're crazy! They'll kill you!"

"No, they won't, because I'm going to the core of the building to hit the switch. Then all we have left is Him. You'll help when it gets to that, won't you?" she looked up at him, her eyes big and blue.

He hesitated, she knew his fear of Him, "_I'll_ help, but I don't know about Brick and Butch…your sisters haven't said anything to them. They might not be pleased to find out like this,"

"So then…you'll have to tell them. Go up and tell them, calm them down. You may be the most temperamental but that means you know what to do to get somebody to calm down, right?"

"I wish I was as optimistic as you. I've been _sentenced_ by Him to his office, and apparently so have Brick and Butch, so I'll have to tell them about it after,"

"You think your trick worked?"

"What, minimizing my fear of Him so he can't spy on me? I think so. He hasn't, you know, _trained_ me in a while, and…well…I haven't exactly been doing what Him has asked me,"

She stepped up on her tippy toes and planted a kiss on his lips, ignoring the urge to deepen the kiss, "Good. I'm proud of you," she smiled widely, "see you in a bit!" she winked, ripping his ID tag from his belt loop.

_I _was_ just going to break the scanner, but, hey, when opportunities rise…!_

"You could have asked, you know!" he shouted after her. She didn't get to respond, the elevator doors had already closed.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: As promised. A little shorter, I'll admit it, and in all honesty the next chapter will take a little while longer, but hey, keep checking cuz ya never know!<strong>

The Q&A

**Q: IS BUBBLES PREGNANT?**

**A: Not saying if she is, not saying if she's not!**

**Q: If bubbles is pregnant, how can she still fly?**

**A: Given that there has never been an actual scene in the original series where the girls have been pregnant, it's safe to say that what happens to the girls is up to debate and depends on the author. I would assume if she was a few weeks pregnant, it wouldn't have a lot of affect on her overall powers. **

**Q: Will there be more Reds?**

**A: Yes but not the in the way you might think. **

**Q: Is Jack dead?**

**A: :(**

**Q: Why after so many years did the girls finally get their powers back?**

**A: Bubbles 'she is the joy and laughter' got her powers back after experiencing immense happiness. **

**Buttercup 'she is the toughest fighter' got her powers back after being livid at the shut down of the place she had grown to call home.**

**Blossom 'commander and the leader' got her powers back after realizing it's time to take control, to be a leader.**

**Hope that clears things up!**

**Q: Y U NO UPDATE?**

**A: I'm REALLY sorry for the long wait, but it's either that or short updates like this one! Or, short wait with long mediocre material. **

**Q: Why did Mojo look all grim when they released the Xions?**

**A: Why indeed.**

**Q:Who is your favorite character in the show and in your story? Why?**

**A: In the show:**

**That's a tough one. They all have their perks, but I have to say Bubbles is my favourite in the show. She's 'innocent' but she is scary when pushed, or when those she cares for are threatened. I suppose Buttercup could be my favourite for the same reason, but opposite because she's tough but she cares for her sisters.**

**In my story: Probably Blossom. I think her 'arc' so to speak is the most tragic. She gives up a lot for the safety of her sisters and the world. (Brick, being together, etc)**

**Q: What was your inspiration for this story?**

**A: Let's just say fanfiction wasn't giving me the story I needed to read :).**

**Shout outs in the next chapter! I just don't have the time right now to reply to all you guys, but I read them all I swear and you're all great!**


	64. Beginning of the End

~Blossom~

Her heart was beating fast; it had been a while since she'd faced an equal opponent—or anyone, for that matter. The two of them were playing cat and mouse with the Xions, surviving by running and attacking when they had their backs turned, which was extremely difficult considering the Xions had sensors on their backs.

"B!" she called out, panting not able to say her sister's full name. She had lost sight of her raven haired sister since they challenged the Xions, and they responded with another two dozen of them.

_What is taking Belle so long?_ Had they miscalculated how long it would take her to disarm the Xions?

Just as she was about to go looking for Bianca—or Buttercup, as she should get used to saying again, a body was thrown into her vision.

Buttercup's growl was heard from where Blossom was standing, as she pushed herself up from the floor. Her hair was dishevelled and she could feel the anger radiating off her.

"Now I remember why I always had short hair!"

"BC," Blossom tested, trying out Buttercup's old nickname. Buttercup whipped her head back without hesitation and flew towards her sister, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

"We're back to that now?" she asked, smirking.

"Well, what's the point anymore?" Blossom asked.

"Valid," Buttercup replied, "they're tough, but I think we're faster. Butch said the Xions were trained by them, until they could no longer beat them,"

"Yeah, well we've always been faster than the boys, haven't we?"

"What do you think is taking Belle so long?"

So Buttercup shared her sister's worries, "I don't know, I was just thinking the same thing, I'm a little wor-," Blossom didn't get to finish her sentence. Buttercup was shoved aside by a dark green flash, and Blossom felt a cold sweat creep up.

_It couldn't be…why would it be…_

"I never pegged you for a liar, Red," a malicious voice called from behind her. She whirled around and moved a safe distance away from none other than Brick.

She was speechless. Was he angry? His face wasn't showing any emotion. Why would he be angry? If Boomer was alright with their return, why wouldn't Brick and Butch be happy?

"I—I didn't mean to lie," she finally said, which was true. She never expected to meet up again with the RowdyRuff boys. In fact, she spent seven years _avoiding_ them.

"If you didn't mean to lie, you probably would have told the truth," his voice was cold.

There was something different about him, something she couldn't place. Maybe it was due to her betrayal, she couldn't know for sure.

"If you didn't mean to lie, you probably would have told the truth," his voice was cold.

There was something different about him, something she couldn't place. Maybe it was due to her betrayal, she couldn't know for sure.

"You don't understand the position I was in,"

"No. What I _understand_ is that I killed you once, and now it looks like I'll have to do it again,"

Her eyes widened. So, there was still heavy tension between them. They were still enemies. She was Blossom, not Bubbles and he was Brick, not Boomer.

But what about those videos she saw all that time ago? He must have cared about her death at some point, why was she only accepting this now?

_Because it's hard for you to understand that it's not as easy as it seems to be good._

"You sound confident. Keep in mind I've killed you before too, and that didn't even take much effort," If she could stall, maybe Bubbles would arrive and Boomer in tow. Maybe Boomer could convince his brothers a fight wasn't necessary. She felt her heart beat fast, and she felt herself finally accept her feelings for him. She didn't _want_ to fight with him.

He scoffed, "That wasn't me. It was a lesser version of me,"

"The saddest part," he continued, "is that I knew it was you, all along. I just couldn't believe that Miss Goody-Two-Shoes could be so cruel,"

"Maybe you should've believed it after you killed her,"

"I'm the one that should be mad right now, not you. The only reason I haven't jumped at you like my dear brother is because I have some class,"

"Says the murderer," she mumbled, not loud enough for him to hear, though she knew he probably heard anyway, "Why would I have told the truth, Brick? So you could kill me again?"

Something flashed across his face, and he opened his mouth to say something—but it was cut off by a scream in what she initially thought was pain though she knew it couldn't have been—_Why would it be?_

He lunged at her, and she braced herself for the fight.

* * *

><p>~Buttercup~<p>

Adrenaline was rushing through her veins; this is what she was meant to do. Fighting for her was like riding a bike—you can stop riding it for years, but you'll never forget how to.

She was sweating, and she had lost sight of Blossom—but she didn't really care. She had figured out a way to destroy the Xions without really trying—you had to get them close enough to another Xion and piss them off at the same time. The tricky part was getting out before they shot at you.

Somewhere along the fight she lost sight of her red-headed sister, and there wasn't any time to go looking for her, there was simply too many Xions to take a break.

She thought she caught a glimpse of red hair—but she also saw to Xions in perfect position. She called their attention and flew rapid circles to get them in the proper position; each pair was harder to beat than the last—they knew how to _learn._

Luckily, it wasn't as though she hadn't had formidable opponents before, and the Xions were in place, this was the time when they would fire. What she didn't count on, however, was one of them using the spear feature, and cutting the back of her neck as she shot up and out of the way.

The pain was unimaginable, and she knew she needed a slight break—even a minute could do wonders. She shot behind a dumpster and slid to the ground; she had miscalculated her landing. In a small moment of terror, she realized Beatrice was hiding behind the same dumpster.

_If she knows I'm hurt, she'll flip, I know it. _

She flicked her hair over her neck, "Now I remember why I always had short hair!"

"BC," hearing her old nickname felt strange, as if it wasn't her nickname, but an old friend's whom she hadn't seen in a while. That's not to say it didn't make her happy.

"We're back to that now?" she asked, smirking.

"Well, what's the point anymore?" Blossom asked.

"Valid," Buttercup replied, "they're tough, but I think we're faster. Butch said the Xions were trained by them, until they could no longer beat them,"

"Yeah, well we've always been faster than the boys, haven't we?" Buttercup almost laughed, before she remembered the gravity of the situation.

_If only Belle could hurry the fuck up!_

"What do you think is taking Belle so long?" She said finally.

"I don't know, I was just thinking the same thing, I'm a little wor-," Buttercup didn't get to hear the rest of the sentence. She felt her breath being knocked from her, and she was disoriented by the time she realized she had made a crater in the ground.

It didn't take long for her to realize who had shoved her, "Butch," her heart raced. Was he mad? Happy? Confused? Did he even know?

She had just enough time to turn her head, avoiding his fist from crushing her skull.

She got her answer, and now the Xions weren't the only ones she needed to fight.

She now needed to fight the only man she'd ever thought she loved. Not for the first time, she wished she was Belle—Bubbles, who had always been so good with her words. There wasn't anything she could say now to deter him from his destructive path, and even if there was, there wasn't enough time to think of it.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: It's short, I KNOOOOOW :(. A special thank you to those of you patiently waiting (if there are any of you left). But, if you guys leave lovely reviews the next update could be quicker than you think heeheeheehee. <strong>

**ForeverDescending- "oh and, I was reading the author's note at the bottom and got a little curious about the "Is Bubbles Pregnant" thing... Where did that come from? lol, it confused me a bit..." - People were wondering if Bubbles was pregnant, and it was a part of the Q&A.**

**Adork4cartooncouples - Aw thank you :)! Here it is, albeit a bit short!**

**SayaHeya- A late review is better than no review! Just like a late update is better than no update. Many authors go months without an update, and some don't update at all. I'm sorry I have school and _life_ to deal with, but I'm glad you like my story!**

**Sunshine5643 - Teehee! Thanks!**

**ChichiUgo- Go to your lil account place, go to publish, then go to 'Doc Manager' and upload the file your story is on, then go to manage stories and it explains from there!**

**If I missed you feel free to yell at me in the reviews ;)! I think I got all the new reviews from the last two chapters :s. **


	65. Beginning of the End part two

~Bubbles~

The bottommost floor—as far as anyone knew—of the RRB Corp. could really only be described in one word: Gloomy. The lights were dimmed, and often flickered. Bubbles had the sense as though she was inside a horror film. The floorboards creaked, and the wallpaper was peeling—once upon a time, somebody took care of this floor. Something told her that time was a little over ten years ago. She knew she had been walking too slow—but she couldn't risk running, and drawing attention to herself should anyone else be on this seemingly deserted floor.

Every so often down the hall, she would pass a room titled 'Supplies', but she had yet to find 'Maintenance' or some variation of the meaning. The sound of wheels hitting the concrete filled her mind, and she found herself even more alert than she already was.

_Don't worry. You are _allowed_ to be here. You are allowed to be here. You are…_Her attempt to comfort herself faded away once she realized who was pushing the garbage can.

"Oh, God," she whispered.

The man squinted his eyes—evidently not everybody had super human eyesight. She waited what felt like hours until he widened his eyes and began to chuckle like a maniac, "Belle? Tell me you're Belle!"

_Relax. He can't do anything now. You're a hundred times stronger!_

"Mr. Furd," she swallowed, "Always a pleasure,"

He laughed again. Had she never noticed before, how cold his laughter was? How completely mirthless? "I'm sure it is. I suppose you're wondering why I'm doing janitorial work,"

"Can't say that I was," she lied.

"You little bitch got me demoted," he spat. She saw the switch in his face—he was angry now.

"It's better than being fired," she shot back.

_Careful, Bubbles._

"Don't get smart with me. You know, here, on the bottom floor nobody can hear you scream,"

_Funny, I was thinking the same thing._ She thought with a sense of power. She had to fight herself from giggling,_ How could it be that this was the man I was so afraid of? How amusing that he thinks I should still fear him._

"Mr. Furd, I wouldn't be so sure," she said calmly, "If you apologize for the way you treated me, and slowly go down the hall and into the elevator, I won't hurt you,"

This caused him to laugh—with actual humour, "You? You, hurt me?" In a flash, he was up against the wall, his feet above the ground, being held back by Bubbles's hard grasp around his neck.

He squirmed, and she smiled softly as his face went red. He clawed at her hand, but it didn't do much for him.

"Apologize," she said kindly.

"I—I'm suhrry,"

"Sorry what?" she cupped her free hand around her ear, "I can't quite hear you,"

"Surhhy…SORRY…I…I'm SORRY," she let go, and made no effort to disguise wiping his sweat off of her hand.

She looked at him, curling up in the fetal position on the floor. She giggled—because that was how Bubbles dealt with fear, by making light of things. By making light of how ruthless she just was, by making light at how frightened she was looking at the man and being brought back to what he almost did to her.

She laughed.

…

When she finally reached the maintenance room, the first thing she noticed was the heat. It was almost unbearable. In fact, it was so hot; she had to take off her sweater so that she was only in her white tank top and her black yoga pants.

She had realized when she was about halfway through the labyrinth of boilers and pipes, that it was probably not the best idea to have left it right by the door. She had no time to turn back and pick it up, so it was just something she would have to deal with if the time came. Once more she tried to float, but found she still did not have the energy to. The heat seemed to suck it out of her—she couldn't help but think at how much Blossom would be enjoying this. Her red-headed sister had always loved the extreme heat, while Buttercup had preferred the cold. Bubbles, however, did not like any extreme temperature. Everything was most beautiful during fall or spring, she would always say.

She couldn't help herself from imagining about the future. She wasn't sure how the two of them would do it, but after the Xions are shut down, the only problem left to solve would be Boomer's two brothers. She was certain they'd react positively—after all, she lived with the boys for months, and she grew to know them better than they knew themselves.

They would get houses in the same neighbourhood, and their kids would grow up together. Boomer and Bubbles would get married first, and then she wasn't sure which of her siblings would tie the knot next—she just knew it would happen. She'd have a big family—so that her kids would always have someone to support them. Buttercup would have a moderately sized family, she figured, maybe no more than three kids. Blossom would have a practical family with a maximum of two kids, if that. They'd all be great mothers.

They would participate in school activities, and her kids would never lie to her. They'll have a proper family, and be raised in a loving home. The thought of her future was soft and appealing; she rested her hand above her stomach and whispered a small apology.

So far, the maintenance room wasn't providing anything of interest to her—but did she truly believe there would be arrows pointing to the destruction of the Xions? She would have to use her brain.

She manoeuvred around a few roaring boilers, and to her right she saw a room titled 'Surveillance'.

_My best bet is in there._ She took a glance over her shoulder before walking up to the door, and running Boomer's ID in the scanner. She cursed as it made a loud beeping noise, but calmed down once it opened.

She shut it carefully behind her, and took in her surroundings. It was a large, rectangular room, with small television screens covering the walls from ceiling to floor, save for right across from her where another metal door stood.

There were chairs every once in a while in front of the walls, and in the center was a circular table surrounded by computers and wires peeking out when they had the chance. She took the time to look at the television screens—they were showing nearly every area of Townsville. She had heard rumours about the constant surveillance, but she had never imagined it would be this extreme. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw red and green flashes, and she rushed to the screen where she was certain she saw a glimpse of her sisters.

She couldn't see much—they must have flown out of shot. All she could see were the Xions—shooting somewhere off screen.

_That's strange. Why aren't Blossom and Buttercup fighting them? _She looked at the nearby screens, in hopes of catching another angle—but to no avail. They showed different parts of Townsville, and even she knew she didn't have enough time to look for it. She decided to try her luck with the door at the other end of the room. As she got closer, she was certain this was the room she was looking for. Heavily secured, a large black 'X' was on the front of it.

"You're kidding me," she said under her breath. Not only did it require identification, but it also required a password, a code, a retina scan, a thumb print and voice recognition. Her first attempt was lasers—it didn't do much. She would have screamed, but that would attract too much attention. She wasn't as strong as Buttercup, but she figured she could do some damage anyway. She kicked, and punched, repeatedly until eventually making a dent. She made the dent bigger, and once the metal was soft enough, she brought out her laser eye vision once more and cut through.

She stepped through and sighed with relief. This was the right room. Many buttons, lots of wires and the word 'Xion'.

"Xion Set 2" "Xion Set 89" "Xion Set 4" the numbers were in no numerical order—so she assumed they were labelled by value, though she wasn't sure which value exactly. Under each label was exactly 18 buttons—14 of them looked the exact same, four of them were differently coloured, and one of them was protected by a glass box.

**Sleep**- a green button.

**Shift**- a yellow button.

**Repair**- a blue button.

**Do not press**- a white button.

She watched for a few seconds in amazement as the buttons literally pressed themselves—most of them changing from 'shift' to 'repair' or 'sleep' to 'shift'. She knew why, of course—there was a huge battle going on in the town square. She went with her gut feeling, and flipped open the glass box and hit the white button. The lights flickered and a voice went on through the speakers, "Xion Set 7, terminated,"

_Gotcha. There has to be a faster way to hit all of these…there must be over one hundred!_

Before she could figure out a way, the voice came back on, "Xion Set 54, termin—Xion Set 67, termin—Xion Set 16, terminated,"

At first she was confused, but then she realized it must be her sisters killing them off. She sighed and realized there was truly no faster way, she would have to go through—as fast as possible. She zoomed around the circular room, and flipped open all the boxes on the bottom row, then worked her way up. Once she reached the top, she flew down and hit all the white buttons. She repeated this, until she reached the last one—Xion Set 1. The box had closed on its own. She tried to pry it open, but it wouldn't budge.

She tried something, "Computer," she said, not certain anything would happen.

"Yes," the robotic woman responded.

"Open the glass box over Xion Set 1,"

"Error, Set 1 has been put under protection,"

"By _who_?"

"By me," she whirled around, flying up at the same time. Luckily, it was Boomer standing in the doorway.

"Oh, Boomer, it's just you. You scared me," she giggled, as she floated down, "did you say you locked the box?"

"Yeah."

"Why?" she wanted to walk towards him, but a small part at the back of her head urged her to stay where she was.

"Because, they just started to evolve. They're learning androids, you know?"

"What? I don't understand. I thought the whole point was to terminate the Xions _before_ they evolved?"

"Oh, come on. Be fair. You've shut down all the other sets. That'll be an unfair advantage,"

Something about Boomer was off—maybe it was the lighting, but his eyes seemed to be a darker shade of blue than Bubbles had ever seen before.

"I'm really confused,"

He chuckled, "Of course you are. You were always the simpler one of the three,"

That hurt. "Boomer, what's gotten into you?"

"Nothing. I just got a little sense knocked into me. I'm not stupid like you. I know that as soon as the Xions are gone, you'll go after my brothers to get your revenge,"

"Boomer that's not-," she didn't get to finish her sentence. Boomer slammed her into the wall, his hands around her neck. She could throw him off if she tried, but she was stopping herself. She didn't want to hurt him—she couldn't, could she?

Can you hurt the man you love?

"What—why—," her head began to feel light headed.

His face turned red, and briefly his eyes turned back to his regular blue, "Fight, back," he said, with just as much struggle as though he was the one being choked.

She ripped his hands off of her neck and zoomed across to the other side of the room. She couldn't fight him. She would run, she'll lead him back to the Town Square, and maybe by then she'd have figured something out.

* * *

><p><strong>Boomer<strong>

He was last to arrive, and quite frankly he didn't really care. Him's meetings were boring, and basically consisted of Him's insane rantings.

"_Boomer,_" his voice never failed to send shivers down his spine, "_how nice of you to join us,_"

He looked to his brothers, expecting to see a look of shared annoyance. Instead, he was met with nothing. His brothers seemed cold—disconnected. He took a seat beside Butch.

"Tell us the news, father," Butch said. Boomer had to stop himself from doing a double take. Him was never referred to as 'father', at least not to his face. Not to mention, Butch hardly even called Mojo 'father' let alone Him.

"_I'm not sure how to…say this, boys. I'm sure it will break your heart,_"

"Please, tell us," Brick spoke this time.

"_Those lovely girls you have all been cavorting with…_"

_Oh no. Oh Christ, no._ Boomer thought. _How did he find out? Of course, he knows everything. STUPID! How do I fix this? How? I'm sure they won't be that mad…but they'll feel hurt about being lied to._ In his thoughts, he realized he had zoned out and the conversation had progressed greatly, and right in front of them on Him's television screen were photos of the girls—and comparing them to their 13 year old version.

"_Yes, boys, I'm afraid so,"_ he circled around them, "_those girls were simply playing with your emotions, waiting for the right opportunity to _kill _you_,"

"But-we killed them!" Butch protested. It was strange. He went quickly from robotic and obedient, to completely livid.

"_They killed you three almost twenty years, yet here you are now_," he almost sounded annoyed.

"How could she?" Brick growled, nearly lunging at the screen.

"_I know, you poor things have been played_. **_Unfortunately this evidence is irrefutable._** _I suggest a surprise attack_," his suggestion sounded more like a question, but that was what you had to deal with when talking to Him.

"You don't have to tell me twice," Butch growled, and he was soon gone in a green flash, Brick following. Boomer, however, lingered.

_What happened to them missing the girls? Something is not right...I would be angry too…but…Butch was in _love_ with Bianca. Doesn't he realize they're the same person? And Brick went off the deep end after the death of the girls…they wouldn't react like this, unless…  
><em>  
>"You've done something to them," he said, realizing too soon he did not mean to speak aloud.<p>

"_Well, a round of applause for Boomer, **would you like a prize?**"  
><em>  
>"You're controlling them—I knew you would try something! I knew from the moment you approved of Butch and Bianca," his voice was strained.<p>

"_I never expected **you** to be suspicious, Boomer._ **_You were always the dimwitted one,"_**his tone was menacing, and he began to approach Boomer who suddenly found himself unable to move.

"You're not going to win. You'll never win,"

Behind Him, the screen turned to Boomer and Belle kissing in the night sky.

"_On the contrary, Boomer, you treasonous fool, I already have won,"_

"I won't fight. I'll fight against them if I have to!"

"_It's amusing how you think you **have a choice**_,"

Something cold clamped the back of his neck, sending multiple electric shocks through him, causing him to scream in pain.

"_Should you step out of line, this little fun machine will inject you with antidote X, right before melting your brain. But don't worry, I don't dream you'll ever be able to fight against it,"_

Him's voice faded as Boomer began an inner battle, one he lost quickly, before blacking out.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: There's your explanation as to why the boys are being such jerks! Let me write a formal apology for taking so long to update: As a writer, it's difficult to write when you're in a bad mood. Your characters repeat words, your description is limited and the plot just plain sucks. It was <em>really<em> hard to be in a good mood when a lot of bad stuff just kept happening. Not to mention, I had written, and rewritten, and rewritten this chapter countless times, and each time it was poop. **

**But, it's all awesome now. I thank all of you that have stuck with me, and waited patiently. I sincerely hope this was worth the wait, and since I'm already halfway through it, I can gurantee the wait for the next chapter will not be so long (I SWEAR THIS TIME). **

**Shoutouts: **

**MissLGShine- I'm a big fan of them! Sorry I took so long.**

**THE POWERPUFF- Congrats for getting it right! **

**Boss- I will NEVER stop writing (well until it's done, at least), it was just difficult to produce something worthwhile. **

**December's Devil- Thank you for reviewing, and I'm sorry for making you wait so long!**

**_- will do!**

**Freaky-Hazel-Eyed-Girl - I'm not too sure if you're new or not... but thanks for the compliment and I hope you like this chapter too! **

**LoverofZIM- Thanks for understanding! And thank you for the wonderful compliment! Haha I'm a grammar nerd!**

**moonlightwarmth- You seemed like a older reviewer, but I'm not too sure and I didn't want to risk missing anyone. Thanks and thanks for your loyalty!**

**CuppyCakeJr - Heehee remember that ;) **

**Sammi- Thank you!**

**JennyPpgfan- Again, I wasn't too sure if you were old or new. But thank you anyway!**

**dragonroses- Thank you, I hope you enjoyed this one!**

**SweetHeartCandy- Is it cruel that I updated but you still don't know what's going on with Butch, Buttercup, Blossom and Brick?**

**Sunshine5643- Sorry, and sorry for taking so long!**

**hmm, was that everyone? Please review, I read all of them :)!**


	66. The End

**Brick**

Unlike his sibling, who attacked his counterpart with an animal like ferocity, the way Brick fought was more precise. The longer they fought, the angrier he felt himself get that she was his equal. He wanted nothing more than to literally rip her to pieces—why was it that she always looked so perfect? Even as they fought, and her skin became bruised and bloody, she still seemed so perfect. He threw an angry punch, and it sent her flying into the ground. She didn't come up right away, but he sensed she wasn't dead. He learned ten years ago how it felt when she died—the exact moment that it happened, it was almost as if a piece of him had disappeared. He smirked slightly as he remembered her know-it-all attitude when they were young.

The thought of her literally pained him, and every once in a while, such as right now while Blossom was preoccupied, he had a chance to consider _why_ it pained him.

Why was it that suddenly he felt rage towards this girl? True, they were mortal enemies—Brick was literally created to destroy Blossom—but what other reason? Because she lied to him? That didn't make any sense. Should the position have been flipped, he would have lied to her too.

Did she truly mess with his feelings? Doesn't that now explain why she ended things with him, once he honestly started to like her? Shouldn't he be understanding—_Beatrice—Blossom, I understand now why you began to avoid me. You're honestly a good person; you didn't want to hurt me._ He thought of saying that to her, but it made his head hurt once more. The more he tried to figure out why, the more it hurt. _Stop thinking about that…she is your enemy, not your friend. If you don't kill her, she'll kill you. She has to, remember? She's a good person. What kind of a good person would let YOU live?_ His thoughts had turned dark, and his head felt cloudy.

Rage filled him once more—it was easy to feel rage, less painful than the thought of apologizing or repairing the damage.

Anger was easy, but it still didn't make sense.

* * *

><p><strong>Butch<strong>

He smirked as he listened to the sound of her knee dislocating, the sound of her scream in pain. It was so rare that Buttercup screamed in pain, so whenever she did, he relished the moment. It was always short lived. She came back at him and threw him down to the ground; he created a crater where he landed.

He waited for her to come down, half of him wanting her to take her time. He had nearly forgotten what a fierce fighter she was and he needed to catch his breath. The Chemical X inside him was working feverishly to heal all of his wounds—the dislocated elbow, numerous broken bones, heavy cuts and big bruises.

But she didn't take her time, she flew down and picked him up, throwing him into a building mercilessly. She was hurt too, possibly worse than him, though she didn't let it show. That would be extremely out of character. As he collided through the windows, the people streaming past, he thought about Bianca—well, Buttercup—and how she had made him feel. How he was sure he had never felt that way, only to find out it was a ruse.

_That's what I get for feelings_.

He fell outside and when she came at him, all he saw was red. He flew up towards her and threw punch after punch, catching her completely off guard.

They were always so well matched, it didn't take long for her to catch up and throw her own punches. They soon both became winded, and there was a brief moment where they were floating in the air, staring at each other, panting heavily like animals.

He felt his blood boil—more in frustration than anything. He was going crazy, it seemed. Looking at her, his mind got confused. He hated her, that was evident from the back of his neck. But now, pausing the fight and letting his breath come back, he felt conflicted.

He _knew_ he felt something else for her, but it literally pained him to think about that. The only emotion that wasn't painful was anger and betrayal.

"Aren't you supposed to be good? I never knew you three could be so deceiving," Butch spat, his thoughts flashing to looking at Bianca (who must have been Buttercup then, obviously) sleeping so peacefully in his bed. The thought made him twitch in pain.

"Stop whining, do you hear us complaining about our death?" Buttercup retorted, the two of them glaring at each other.

_She makes it so easy to be angry with her!_

"It's too bad I'll have to kill you again," he said, "you're a lot hotter than you were back then,"

_Insults. Insults are easy. Focus on that. But why? Isn't this what I wanted?_ His mind responded with a sensation that almost felt as though his brain was melting—_No. This isn`t what I wanted._

She screamed in rage, and threw herself at him, and they were fighting again.

* * *

><p><strong>Boomer<strong>

He didn't want to. He _really_ didn't want to. But Boomer couldn't control it—at least it felt like he couldn't. He had known who she was for a while now, had gotten used to seeing her smile and smiling back at her.

_What are you waiting for? Destroy her!_ The voice he heard wasn't his, he knew, he had become familiar with Him entering his thoughts disguised as Boomer`s own voice.

He flew towards her and threw a punch, ignoring the look of surprise on her face. She flew back up effortlessly, her eyes filled with questions he didn't want to answer. The more he thought about how she was able to control herself, the angrier it made him. The more he thought about how she was able to survive without powers, the angrier it made him. The more he thought about how she was able to hide her identity, the angrier it made him. In short, he became livid thinking about her.

In seconds, he had completely forgotten about the girl who had made him smile sincerely, gone was the girl who made him feel worthwhile. She wasn't anything to him now, but his enemy.

* * *

><p>~Blossom~<p>

They were flying around each other, throwing a punch or clawing at skin, making a red tornado in the sky while their siblings fought below.

She had taken it easy on him, subconsciously, not wanting to hurt him too badly. The moment he grabbed both of her wrists and squeezed until they snapped was the moment she decided she did not want to die by his hands again.

This was no longer Brick—in his eyes there was something wild, something much darker than there was a few hours ago. She was sure it was the same in her eyes. She didn't feel hatred towards him, simply pity, because a deep part of her knew he did not want to do this—he was built to do this.

"Lie to me," he says.

Tired of circling him, she grabbed his shoulders and pushed forward, ignoring the pain of his hands around her neck, as she slammed him into the ground, creating a deep crater.

"What?" she responds finally.

"Lie to me," he repeats.

"I never had feelings for you," she said, "I never questioned why we fought," she continued, "I wanted to hurt you,"

He laughed, "Don't you wish, sometimes, we were born as different people?"

_All the time._She thought, but she never got to say it out loud. His back arched and he screamed in pain, shooting his hand up to her neck.

She panted slightly as she picked him up and threw him, flying after where he landed on the roof of a nearby building, she picked up a piece of the pipe surrounding the roof and dragged it over to where he was lying on the ground, his breathing slow and heavy.

Neither one was more beat up than the other—and it took Blossom more time to heal, since she had only recently gotten her Chemical X working. He was still on the floor, and one eye was swelled shut and bloody.

She limped over to him, her energy low as the Chemical X was working hard on healing all her broken bones. She looked down at him before lifting the pipe up like a baseball bat, ready to swing at him. She hesitated—Brick, at that moment, looked more like a wounded puppy than a cruel enemy.

"It doesn't have to end like this," she mumbled, "It doesn't have to be this way," Blossom's breath was heavy as she spoke louder. He looked up at her through his one eye and smiled.

"Yes," he said, his voice scratchy and low, "it does,"

_Kill me or I'll kill you._

* * *

><p><strong>Boomer<strong>

His movements became mechanical, his arm swinging back and forth, colliding with her face, smirking at the sound of her pain. The ground is soaked with blood, the buildings ruined and the town full of craters.

_Pain to clean up._

He felt his anger rise at her unblinking face. Every blow damaged her porcelain skin, but she just stared at him, her eyes unblinking. They're not without emotion, of course. Every hit makes her eyes water, more with emotional hurt than anything else.

Every collision her eyes beg him to stop, beg him to explain why he's betraying her. But he can't stop. Words are worthless to him, he couldn't even if he tried, he's too deep in his animal state.

Each punch is harder than the last, his frustration building each time she doesn't fight back.

_Stop looking at me._ He thought with a growl, as he grabbed her by the hair, relishing in the sound of her squeak in pain as he threw her down, creating yet another crater. Boomer waited for her to get up, and when she didn't, his heart began to beat fast with—_fear?—_that quickly turned into anger as he realized she was still alive, merely staying in her crater.

**_Why isn't she fighting back?_ **He thought angrily, as he flew down to her crater and wrapped his hands around her neck. The tears began to well—but those did nothing to him, Bubbles was always a crier.

_She's smiling at me._ It felt like a disease, her smile, so he pulled his hands off and instead flew up a safe distance to study her. Her once perfect complexion was now bruised and bloody, her right arm completely broken, every bone shattered. Her face was the worst of it—he seemed to punch there the most, trying to get rid of her guilty making eyes.

It's no fun for Boomer, not when she's not even putting up a fight. Not when she's playing punching bag. He doesn't have a scratch on him. He looks to Butch, and his counterpart, the two of them equally matched, dodging blows. He looks up to the flurry of red, as Brick and Blossom tear each other apart.

Still she just lies there—her once busted open lip healing with speed.

"Why aren't you fighting back?" he asks her, finally, his breath heavy. Bubbles doesn't respond, merely closes her blue eyes delicately. Boomer screams and picks her up violently, throwing her into the building behind her.

Again, he waits for her to come back, only to see her lying on the other side, like a rag doll.

"I forgive you," she whispers.

Suddenly Boomer can only see red—that seemed to set him off the most. Before he can come after her again, she starts screaming and Boomer flies into the building before falling to the ground.

She stopped screaming, and his head was throbbing. He felt weak for being so easily defeated—this was her first time fighting back throughout the whole fight. She flew towards him, and he saw doubles.

"Boomer," she said.

"Too loud," he whimpered, shaking his head.

"You don't have to do this," she whispered, and he wondered how she could carry herself so well with so many injuries.

"I have to," he responded, "we can't both survive. Even if we do, Him won't let us stop fighting you," he said weakly, feeling like a child speaking to his mother. She reached her hand out to his cheek delicately, his head was still screaming—it felt like it was about to explode. Every word sent an electrical shock to his brain, and her sonic scream made his situation no better.

"Yes, we can, we have to," she whispered quickly. Her head was right above his, and her tears hit his face. He felt his anger die down, his memory return to him. This was the girl he loved, not the girl he wanted to kill. They were counterparts, but they were also perfect for each other.

He also remembered why he forgot all this—the pain at the back of his neck wasn't from irritation, it was from the dictator that Him burrowed in there.

He was going to die, and she would spend the rest of her life wondering why he turned on her.

"I'm dying, Bubbles," he said quickly. If he spoke any slower, took any more time to think things through, his brain would literally explode inside his head.

"No, no you're not," she shook her head, and gripped his biceps tightly, almost hurting him.

"Yes, I am. Look, I need to explain something to you, but you need to pay close attention," she nodded, and he explained to her what Him had done as quickly as he could. By the end, his voice was gritted and his eyes were watering. The pain was unbearable, and he was losing his connection to this world. He no longer felt her hands on him.

The thought of never seeing Bubbles again was almost enough to finish him off right there, the pain was so unbearable.

She leaned down and kissed him gently on the head as he felt himself black out, "I'm sorry," she whispered.

_I wish I could have felt her touch, just one last time._

* * *

><p>~Buttercup~<p>

Blow by blow, they were matched evenly, one just as angry as the other.

"When did you become such a girl?" he taunted.

"I've always been a girl," she growled at him, slamming him into a building.

He winked, "Oh baby," before ripping her off of him and dragging her down.

**_"I miss her,"_**

Butch twists her arm back, snapping it.

**_"I dunno. You're just nice to be around,"_**

She swings back and punches him in the jaw, breaking his stupid mouth.

**_"We didn't do anything, I just didn't want to leave you there,"_**

He grabs her hair and swings her around, sending her flying.

**_"Thanks for not slapping me,"_**

_"When?"_

**_He leaned in, his lips hovering above hers, "In a few seconds,"_**

Buttercup's arms wrap around his neck, and he returns the favour.

His dark eyes suddenly lighten, and widen in fear as he rips his hands away. She doesn't look, but she can tell he noticed the cut that has been faltering her performance on the back of her neck. He looks at her, his eyes are worried—he notices my yellowing skin, I'm sure of it. Is he upset he didn't get the chance to do it himself?

"Buttercup, I don'—," he doesn't finish his sentence. He instead, screams in rage and blind sides her with a heavy punch to her eye. She recovers quickly enough, and returns with equal rage, wrapping her arms around his neck once more.

* * *

><p><strong>Brick<strong>

He was dying, he couldn't necessarily see it happening-his vision was extremely blurred, but he knew it was to be true. He felt very weak, unable to push back whoever it was that had suddenly forced him to sit up.

It felt like a woman, "You'll be okay," she says to him, almost rocking him like a small child, "You're okay,". Brick feels her chin rest on his hair, and his head is tucked against her chest. Her clothes rub against his wounds, and though he felt numb, he could feel this pain, "Why did you do this, Brick? Why?" The woman's voice cracks as she pushes him away from her chest, still holding him.

_Do what?_ He tries, his mouth can form the words but his breath won't let him speak. He is exhausted. _Can I close my eyes for just a moment...?_ He lets himself do so in her arms, only to be violently shaken.

"You can't!" the woman shouts, "I won't let you!"

_Who is she? Her determination is admirable, _he thought, managing a small smile. He tried not to grimace as he felt the blood trickle down to his chin.

"We'll fix this," she says to him, "Maybe if we gave you some more Chemical X? That'll have to work,"

_Chemical X..._suddenly he remembers.

He opened his eyes slowly; slightly afraid at what he would see, should his vision be at full strength this time. A red head was staring down at him, the sun behind her hid her features. It was Blossom, and every memory came flooding back almost painfully.

"It wouldn't matter if you fixed my wounds. Him...did something to me. Something that won't leave until you're dead, or I am," he said, with a sudden seriousness. It was important she understood.

"What...? I don't..." she began, but they were both suddenly distracted as the clouds above turned a light red, and a strange lobster man—or was it woman?—stepped out.

"**_No. I will not have you idiot girls destroying my boys again!_**"

Blossom screamed in pain and arched her back, as she floated up into the sky, along with two other figures he couldn't see-though he assumed it was her siblings.

"_This time there is nobody to bring you back!"_

He wasn't entirely sure what was happening, but he felt a cold fear creep up on him. Blossom was about to be killed by Him, and then he would be rescued by Him and live like he had before Beatrice...But what could he do? He was paralyzed. He could hardly speak. He would have to watch her die. _Again_. He thought.

"No!" A harsh voice screamed, obviously startling Him enough to send Blossom and the two other bodies crashing down. He wanted to run and catch her, but he cursed his immobility.

"_Mojo Jojo?_"

"Yes, it is I, Mojo Jojo, and I will not allow you to abuse my boys anymore, that is to say, I will not stand by as my boys are abused, because they are mine and it should not be allowed that they are abused, because I will no longer let it happen-,"

"_Will you **get to the point**_?"

He took a deep breath, "We have been allies for a long time, Him, but it has been too long that I allowed you to do as you please with _my_ boys. They are dying now, because of YOU. And now you are going to once more kill the girls they love? I will not allow this anymore. I wish for my boys to die in peace, and I will grieve once more as I did the first time. I will not allow you to reincarnate them so they do not remember me once more. I know your weakness. And I know how to kill you. And that is just what I will do," Even Brick had the energy to be surprised at Mojo Jojo's conciseness.

"_You wouldn't dare..._"

"That is your mistake," Out of the corner of Brick's eye, a black shadow shot up in the sky, its tendrils spreading wide.

"_What? You can't be serious! Mojo, friend of mine—_," he is cut off by a terrible, ear bleeding scream and is followed by an explosion.

He feels relief at the back of his neck, and he is at peace.

* * *

><p>~Blossom~<p>

It was almost as though her tears were never ending. Was it possible for someone to cry as hard as she was there at that moment, when the fire behind his eyes was doused?

Had she even cried this much when the professor died?

_No. I had to be strong for my siblings._ But she didn't want to be strong anymore. She didn't want to comfort them, no, she wanted comfort herself. In fact, she wasn't even certain of the location of her sisters—the three of them had scattered in the fight, and Blossom lay with Brick in front of a forest. She felt as though a part from her had literally been ripped. Not too far from her, Mojo Jojo stood with his head hanging low. She regretted looking at him, because once they linked eyes he walked towards her.

It had been a while since she last stood this close to him, and the effects of old age were obvious on his face. His eyes were tired, and the wrinkles on his face had grown more profound. His once entirely black fur had gained some gray hairs, she was surprised that it was even possible.

"I—," he began, but stopped himself and he let out a tired sigh, "I cannot fix this,"

She couldn't speak, she felt unbelievably childish as she sat there on her knees, her eyes wide and watering.

"I'm sorry," she finally managed, her lower lip still quivering.

He placed his hand on her shoulder, and she fell back on her ankles in defeat, "You had no control over this," it was strange to hear him speak in concise sentences. In a way, that's how she knew how upset he truly was. Even he did not want to make further effort.

"Yes, I did," she argued, "I let this happen,"

"You were only defending yourself, my old foe, if you had not; you would have died once more,"

"Why? Why does he hate me so much?"

"He loved you. Him did not," she thought back to what Brick had told her...Mojo bent down and gently lifted Brick's limp head up, pulling out a small silver object. It squirmed and vaguely reminded her of a spider, "Brick was not in control of his actions. He would have fought blindly until one of you was dead,"

Somehow, it didn't make Blossom feel any better.

"You killed Him," she said, instead, "how?"

He smirked, "We all have our weaknesses," she desperately wanted to know more, but she knew he would not reveal anything. To her surprise, he continued to talk, "You cannot let this hinder you from living your life. Brick would not want you to spend the rest of your days living in sadness. It is alright to mourn, but do not waste your life away. I only wish I had the strength and wisdom to give the same advice to my sons all those years ago. You have been spared death, much unlike my son, now is your chance to _live_,"

It was strange to hear advice from someone who constantly went in circles in his sentences, but deep down, she knew what he said was true. And again, she knew that it was up to her to set an example for her sisters, to fight through the pain and find meaning in life again.

* * *

><p>One side must always lose, for in real life the happy endings more often than not do not exist. Killing someone for your own advances, even killing someone for the greater good always has an emotional impact on you. With death, nobody leaves unscathed. When dealing with creations of evil, who are controlled by the epitome of evil, it is kill or be killed. Neither side could fight it for long, and at the end of the day, who is to be sure which side was good?<p>

The sun finally begins to rise, on a bloody scene, it the start of a new beginning. The sunrise is the first thing to pierce the darkness, carrying with it the torch of a new day. It is not noticed at first, it is nothing but a small warm, rosy glow, completely humble compared to the magnificence of Helios's chariot. But the newborn phoenix sun starts to shake off the ash from its soft down, and the bright red scarlet of the morning makes its way into the eyes of everyone watching.

There is a moment - a pause - before it harks its song and takes flight, spilling golden light upon the plains, across the hills, penetrating the deepest of forests, and scaling the tallest of peaks. Amongst its light lies a bloody scene, where three girls stand, their wounds healing, staring at their foes whose wounds will never heal. There is no bringing them back, not today.

The youngest of them—in spirit, not in age—stands finally, her tears wasted over the body of a boy she hoped to have a future with. His dying words echo in her head: _I can't control it. You have to, or I will._ That day she faced the hardest decision of her life, and it will leave her changed forever.

The toughest of them finds herself breaking slightly, cursing at the return of her powers—the _burden_ of them. It was evidently the reason her heart shattered. She had opened herself to a man who now lay dead in the hopes of a better life. There was someone out there who did not want to see her happy.

The eldest of them—in her wisdom, not in age—stands tall amongst her sisters, refusing to continue to acknowledge the pain from the bottom of her heart. She is a leader, and she must lead her sisters away from pain and into contentment, despite her desperate desire to continue crying by his side.

The citizens of the town crawl out of their shelters—ones they have learned to build a long time ago—reluctantly, unsure of what to find. They have already seen their hope die before their very eyes, nobody is sure if the death of their heroes is something that can be swallowed twice. They blink, their eyes adjusting to the sunlight that blinds them enough so that they can only see the silhouette of the winners. Eventually, they realize, and the crowd breaks out into a slow applause, building to a loud cheer. Music is suddenly playing, and the rejoice in the girls' hometown soon spreads to one that is evident all over the world.

The three manage a smile, though they are far from happy, and far from the mood to celebrate. They are tired, and want nothing more than to rest, to succumb into sleep. They are given no such luxury. The years pass, and the threats dwindle as the world slowly begins to rebuild itself.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: I'm interested to see your reaction. Don't worry, there is still an epilogue, keep an eye out for it. By keep an eye out for it, I mean, it's basically done so it'll be up relatively soon. I'm really interested to hear your responses, hopefully you don't hate me too much, but I'm kind of pleased with the way this chapter turned out. I mean, I wasn't for a while (originally it was going to be up wednesday) but I am now. PLEASE LEAVE DETAILED REVIEWS. I'm LITERALLY begging for them, lol. It would mean THE WORLD.<strong>

**SomeSortaAnon- I enjoy long reviews :). And oops...sorry about that! I'm a grammar freak so that's a heavy slip. I know exactly how you feel about stories, so it means a lot that mine fits into your picky tastes. **

**JamieFeFe- That's a little too disney for me! Thanks though :)**

**Sunshine5643- :( **

**SomeWeirdCrazyChick - Hehe what did you think of this one?**

**CuppyCakeJr- It wasn't really their outer selves. It was more like they got their memory wiped and were replaced with new memories. **

**ROCuevas - Thanks!**


	67. Epilogue

**_Seventeen years later..._**

He had been primping himself for over an hour now, and he could sense his mother's irritation as she called his name ever so gently from downstairs for the seventh time, "We're going to be late, sweetheart," her voice was calm, but Jack knew his mother better.

He sighed, and shook his head, brushing his shaggy hair to the side before grabbing his cell phone and bounding down the stairs.

His mother smirked at him, her eyes ever knowing, "You know Jack, you'd think you were seeing someone special at your cousin's party,"

He felt his neck heat up, "What?" he scoffed, "No. This party is going to be _la-ame_,"

"Seventeen years to perfect it, and you're still a terrible liar. Though I guess I shouldn't be complaining. I know Rebecca's going to be there,"

He resisted the urge to curse how quickly his mother had figured him out. Rebecca was gorgeous, but not only that, she was _perfect_. Insanely smart, and funny, and witty and charming and…he could go on forever. She constantly held a book in her hands—whether it was a novel or a sketchbook, it was always present, and it added to the mystique of her.

"So?" he squeaked.

His mother laughed, "Don't worry, honey, I won't reveal your secret. Now _come on_. We're late already,"

"Can we fly this time?" he tested.

She narrowed her eyes, "Last time, you flew into a tree,"

_Last time we flew _together. He mentally corrected. He may be a terrible liar, but he was glad she had no idea he flew behind her back.

"I was _five_," he protested, although, his skills were still a little sloppy. It was embarrassing; his eleven year old cousins could fly better than him. Any other power, he was _amazing_ at. But flying? He had yet to master it.

She sighed, "Fine, but I'm grounding you if I sense you might have another mishap,"

Luckily, they flew without problems to his aunt and uncle's house two blocks down. He could hear the music through the door—every birthday the twins have ever had, it was always a huge town party, all of his aunt and uncle's close friends were expected to arrive.

He had mixed feelings about this party. While he was excited to see his Aunt Blossom, who showed up only once per year (twice, sometimes for Christmas, very rarely for Thanksgiving), he always felt uneasy around his uncle.

They rang the doorbell and his aunt Buttercup greeted them with heavy excitement, giving Jack a tight hug, and punching him in the gut like she always did when his mother wasn't looking. His uncle ruffled his hair playfully, and Jack tried not to tense up.

He was a glooming man, there was nothing dark about his character—as far as he knew—but his features were dark. For one, he still towered over Jack, and for another he had many scars. The most prominent was a spider shaped scar at the back of his neck, but there were small white ones every so often on his face and arms.

He didn't know the full story—nobody really liked to talk about it, it seemed, but somehow his uncle Butch lost all of his powers seventeen years ago. He knew part of the story, due to the numerous history lessons he's had to endure—but something told him they were biased retellings.

Mr. Zimmer's voice rang through his head, "_While the rest of the boys as well as Him had been defeated by the girls and shockingly Mojo Jojo, much to everyone's surprise, Butch came back to consciousness two hours into The Great Cleanup. He seemed to have a sudden change of heart, begging for forgiveness and having insane ramblings about a sliver spider that had 'fallen off'. Of course, he wasn't believed, and he was thrown into jail. He, however, only ended up spending six months in jail as Buttercup had went to beg for his release to our new Mayor, chosen by the people, and ended up marrying him a year later. Nobody is quite sure what happened to Butch, or why Buttercup married her previous murderer, but there are plenty conspiracy theories. After his release, there were protests…"_ He didn't remember the rest of the lecture, as a certain blonde had captured his attention. He didn't remember her name, either.

Next he saw wild Blossom—as everyone in their family playfully called her, since she travelled all over, never staying in one place for too long. She was well known for her strange views on how to live life ('to the fullest!' she would say).

"Jack!" she called, rushing over to him, her numerous bracelets jingling and her floor length dress swishing. Her hair was different than when he last saw her—instead of luscious long locks that trailed past her back, her red hair was cropped to her chin and she wore long feathered earrings.

She smelled like coconuts when he hugged her, and he could plainly see her flame tattoo on the back of her neck.

"How's my little man?" she asked, kissing his forehead.

"You do realize I'm almost a legal adult, right?"

"I think I hear the word _almost_ in there," she winked, "how have things been? How's school? Still a ladies man?"

"Things are good, school's good, and…ladies man? Me?"

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bad liar? Careful Jack, don't get too big a reputation as a womanizer. A girl you're interested in could easily be off put by that,"

_Is everyone in this family a mind reader? _Although, perhaps the fact that he was often surrounded by girls fawning over him already gave that away. It was true, Jack knew how to make a girl swoon, any girl. He had a way with his words, and many girls often whispered giggles about how attractive he was. But when it came to Rebecca, he was completely tongue tied. When he racked up the courage to talk to her, of course. She was just so intimidating.

_Aunt Blossom may be weird, but she gives great advice, I'll give her that._ He always found it slightly peculiar that she was—_what, 41?_—and she still hadn't gotten married...then again, his own mother had never married, either.

"That's only because I want to devote all my love to you," she would say, though he knew that was completely bogus. Jack never knew his father, though he'd seen pictures. Nobody liked to talk about him, and the only person—_monkey_—who did, passed away when Jack was five. Any ramblings of his were lost in his little kid brain. He loved his mother, but he would have loved to know his father too. He knew better now than to ask his mother about him. He hated seeing her cry, and she would never do it in front of him. Her eyes would tear up, and she'd wait until he had left the room to sob quietly. It was heartbreaking. But in the end, at least his mother _did_ have him. Aunt Blossom wasn't married, and she didn't have any children. In any other situation he would assume that children only came with marriage, but his existence proved that wrong. He wouldn't make the mistake of asking her again, though.

His thoughts flew back to when he was eight, and the family as well as a few close friends had crammed into their small bungalow for a Christmas dinner. His aunts, his uncle, his mother, Mitch and his wife Robyn, their daughter Rebecca as well as his best friend Jeremy and his family were all in the dining room. It was the third Christmas with the Mitchelsons spending dinner with their family. There had been a terrible grudge between Mitch and Buttercup, something—like most things—he wasn't allowed to know the full story of.

Mitch was one of the leaders of the Rebellion, and was seen as a hero in everyone but his aunts' and his mother's eyes. Out of the three of them, however, Buttercup was the one who held a deep loathing for him. It wasn't until Buttercup went into labour while trapped in an elevator with Mitch at City Hall, that she forgave him.

_As much as I see you as a traitor, Mitch, if you weren't there in the elevator I don't want to think about what would have happened to my beautiful girls. Because I certainly don't know squat about delivering babies. Besides, your wife is a nice lady. _

The twins had recently turned two, and babbling while aunt Buttercup tried to feed them. Beth's powers had kicked in and every so often aunt Buttercup would have to fly up and bring her down from the ceiling. And of course, Katie would become frustrated at her sister's advantage and start sobbing.

His aunt was sitting across from him; her hair cropped slightly passed her chin and curled very delicately. Each time she came to visit, she was a different Blossom. She was wearing a loose pink dress shirt overtop a black tank top, a festive black and white skirt and black tights. She still had her nose piercing.

At eight, Jack had always wondered why she was never married, but his mother had made it very clear to him that it was not something that was to be discussed with her. And he respected that. But another thing he always wondered, something he hadn't mentioned to his mother, was why she didn't have any children, either.

The table was loud with laughter and conversation, and Jack's curiosity was itching.

"Aunt Blossom," he said, loud enough to be heard over the jubilation.

"Yes sweetheart?"

"How come you don't have a kid?"

The table was silenced. Even Jeremy threw his palm against his face. Rebecca, who he didn't have a crush on at the time, stared on in awe.

"Jack!" his mother hissed, "You don't just ask someone that! Apologize immediately!" her tone still sends chills down his spine. His mother had a very special way of showing anger. It was very calculated, and only if you knew her very well did you realize she was angry.

Jack was about to apologize when his aunt smiled, "No, Bubbles, it's alright. Jack, you know I'm not married, right?"

"Yeah, but neither is my mom!"

"Jack!" she hissed again. Looking back on it, his aunt's expression could be classified as that of someone who realized they weren't going to be able to give a simple, G-rated explanation.

"Well, that's a very good point you have there," her voice was reserved.

"So, how come? You don't like 'em or something?" this was probably the stupidest thing he'd ever said. Even at eight years old he saw the hurt in her face.

"No, that's not it. Sometimes, some people can't have babies, because their bodies won't allow it. It's not that I don't want children, I simply can't have them,"

"Blossom-," his mother began, but she cut her off.

"It's okay, I've had a lot of time to deal with this," she said with a smile. Eventually, the conversations resumed, but his aunt stayed quiet the whole night. His mother was not pleased with him after that. Each time he thought about it, he felt his face turn a bright red.

All thoughts of his past faded away once he saw her, standing by the buffet, sketchbook open. Her dyed light red hair cascaded down her back in waves, and her bangs covered a portion of her face as her pencil moved gently across the page. She was wearing a starch white blouse and light blue skinny jeans paired with low cut light blue converse shoes. On her left hand was the ever-present ruby ring given to her by her parents.

He remembered the first time he realized he had a crush on her. They were coming back from a school trip and the two of them were among the last to leave the school bus. Once they stepped off, she gasped—a beautiful sound—and ran off. This was before he developed feelings for her, so naturally he had no problem going after her to find out what was the matter. They were family friends; it was okay for him to do that.

"Rebecca? Are you okay?" he said, once he found her at the side of the school, her head against the brick wall.

"No, I'm not. I left my ruby ring at the museum…it must have fallen off. I'll never forgive myself,"

"Hey, don't worry, I'll take you to go find it," he said, as though helping her was a reflex.

"Really? Thank you so much, Jack! I really hope nobody's taken it!" The flight back to the museum was brutal, as he was still a shabby flier, and he had never flown while carrying something before. He was thirteen at the time. Carrying her bridal style through the air, while her hair flowed behind her, and the wind cleaned her tears, he realized how perfect she was.

"Quit staring, you'll burst an eye vessel," his uncle joked.

"Is it that obvious?" he said, suddenly feeling extra nervous around his uncle.

"Nah, I just know the look,"

There was an awkward silence between them.

"What are you, seventeen now?"

"Yup,"

Another awkward silence, as his uncle took a sip from the coke can in his hand.

"You look a lot like your father," Butch said, his voice slightly strained.

"Yeah, so I've heard," he said, uncomfortable.

"You're sort of like him, too. Less of a temper, though,"

This was the first he had heard about his father, and his curiosity caught fire, "He had a temper?" he wasn't sure he liked this guy.

"Well, yeah. It was kind of funny. He used to be all prissy and sensitive but after thirteen he would get mad at the slightest things. Your mother was the only one who could calm him down. It was really a sight to see,"

"What else was he like?"

"Well he was a lady killer, that's for sure—not in the literal sense!" he added with a laugh after noticing the look on Jack's face, "Girls loved him. But he wasn't as flirtatious as you. That was more of my thing. In fact, he tended to scare them off,"

Jack found himself chuckling, "But he loved your mother. More than anything. The idiot risked his life so many times for her. You know he was supposed to marry Princess, right?"

"The crazy cat lady?"

Butch laughed again, "Yeah, _now._ Back then she was still crazy, just minus the cats. She lost everything after the Great Battle, when her father was thrown in prison, along with other Him-sympathizers, and, well, me," he got quiet, but shook his head and continued, "she used to be a socialite, and a manipulative bitch—oops, sorry,"

"I'm seventeen. You can say bitch,"

"Yeah, but don't ever let your mother hear you. You'll give her a heart attack, no doubt,"

"Good point,"

"Man, you even sound like him," If Jack didn't know Butch better, if Jack didn't know that Butch was, well, butch, and tough and a former murderer, he could have sworn his uncle's voice cracked. But he knew Butch better, "but you don't have his eyes. He had dark blue eyes. Your eyes aren't even your mother's. They're like a pale, sharp blue,"

He wasn't quite sure what to say, so he didn't say anything at all. Very rarely did anyone in his family speak about his father, or the uncle he would never know. He didn't want to mess it up.

However, the door to his past suddenly slammed shut, "I bet you she likes you," he said, with a sharp change of subject.

Jack was never one to press situations, "I doubt it. A girl like that? She's too smart to go for me. Way out of my league,"

That earned him a slap on the back of the head, "What are you, stupid? You have super powers. Who's out of your league?"

At that moment, Buttercup walked by and gave a sarcastic look, "Do you need another chair for your ego, Butch?" He responded by pulling her in for a kiss.

Jack, feeling very awkward, decided his uncle was right—in a way. He was about to walk over to her when she looked up, and squinted her brown eyes in the sunlight. He did not expect her to smile and wave, calling him over. He was worried for a minute she was calling someone behind him, but did not want to turn around and check, so instead he sauntered forward.

"Hey Jack," she said.

_Alright, Jack, it's simple. You can say her name. You can do it._

"Hey," he said instead, making himself sound completely aloof.

_Too aloof! She's going to think you hate her!_

"How's it going?" he said, after a small silence had passed.

"Eh. I'm kind of bored. Not a lot of people our age," she said, referring to the screaming eleven year olds and under, running around.

"What are you drawing?"

"Oh, it's nothing," she said, suddenly stuffing her sketchbook into her book bag.

He smirked, "Obviously it's something. I have to see it now," _Good. Breathe. Are you breathing?_

"Um, actually, hold on a sec, I think my dad is calling me," she said, squinting and pointing off inside the house. Strangely, he himself couldn't see her father—Mitch Mitchelson.

She was about to run off, when he did the brave thing and grabbed her hand, "What are you hiding, Rebecca?" he had turned on the charms. To his complete surprise, she blushed, and handed him the sketchbook, comically turning and covering her eyes.

He flipped open to the latest page, and on the paper he saw his face. Somehow, she had managed to draw him better than he actually looked. Drawn Jack looked peaceful, mysterious, and his eyes seemed so intense. This couldn't be Real Jack.

"I'm not creepy, I swear. I mean, this is going to make me sound creepy but I just _love_ your eyes. I mean, I think it's my favourite part about you," she giggled, "They're so blue…so intense, so pure. They're captivating. I mean you look at everything so seriously, even when you're joking or laughing, those eyes of yours are an endless source of mystery. Does this make me sound creepy?"

Jack was dumbfounded. He stared at her, this beautiful girl whose light brown roots were coming in, and she managed to make it work. Her chocolate brown eyes, that always looked so warm, her one dimple on the right side of her face that added personality to her smile. This smart, funny, creative girl could _not_ have just complimented him.

"Oh, great. Now you think I'm creepy," she said sarcastically, taking her book back.

"No, I don't," he managed, his voice quiet, "I'm just surprised, that's all,"

"How can you be surprised? So many girls like you!" she smiled.

"You like me?" he said, not quite sure that was what she meant.

Her smile dropped and her cheeks turned a bright red, "Well…no…I…I mean…"

As cute as she looked when she was embarrassed, he decided not to torture her, and instead acted on his gut and kissed her. It was something he had wanted to do for three years now, and that he had finally done it, it was well worth the wait. He felt as though literal fireworks were going off. He felt as though the rest of the world was fading away. He felt as though this was where he was meant to be. As cliché as it sounds, he felt complete.

"Jack's got a girlfriend," he heard his two cousin's voices simultaneously sing, and the two of them quickly pulled away from each other.

Beth and Katie were eleven years old, and had very different styles. Beth dressed in jeans, and t-shirts, whereas Katie was decked out in a flowing white dress and light green shrug, her hair curled and pulled half up. Beth's hair was unceremoniously pulled up into a messy pony tail.

"Really, Bex? Can't you do better?" Katie giggled, to which Rebecca responded with a playful eye roll.

"I mean, he's a dork!" Beth called.

"A dork, huh?" Jack said, slowly, before running towards them in a growl, and lifting them above his head. They responded in shrieking giggles, "Who are you calling a dork?"

They giggled, "Sorry Jack! Sorry!" they said between bursts of laughter. He put them down.

"Now get outta here before I get _really_ mad!" the responded in a scream and ran off.

He turned back to Rebecca.

"That was…something, huh?" she said, brushing her bangs out of her face, "I—I um didn't know you liked me. Like that, I mean…Oh God, I sound like I'm twelve,"

"It's cute," he said, grabbing her hand.

"You're cute," she said, stepping closer to him. Before he knew it, they were engaged in another lip lock. Suddenly, it didn't matter anymore that he never knew his dad. It didn't matter that his aunt wasn't married, or that his mother refused to look for someone. It didn't matter that some citizens from the Dark Times looked at him with disgust, because of his resemblance to his father.

All that mattered was that he still had a family, he was still alive, and that Rebecca _liked him too_

* * *

><p><strong>Final Note: Thank you so much to those of you who were here since my first chapter came up, and those of you who joined along the way. It's been a wonderful experience writing for you all, and hopefully you don't hate me too much for the way I chose to end it, and you enjoyed the aforementioned epilogue. I certainly had fun writing it. Thank you for putting up with my unpredictable updates, a great contrast to my previous serial updates in one day. With school starting up, and the fact that I took four AP courses, it was hard to juggle everything. <strong>

**In case it wasn't clear why Butch was still alive (I tried to explain it without completely explaining it, but I have a feeling some of you will still be confused): Unlike Brick and Boomer, Butch was strangled to "death". In reality, he was merely knocked to the brink of death. This caused the little mind controlling 'spider' like robot to fry up and fall off. When he returned to consciousness, he was back to his regular self, with very little memory of his actions while under control of the spider. **

**To answer the confusion of the previous chapter: Him had pieced together that the RRB were going to betray him, therefore he called them in for a meeting where he attached the mind-controlling robot to the back of their neck. It altered their memory and their emotions, making them hate and despise the PPG. In fact, it made their only life purpose to destroy the power puff girls. Any kind or questioning feeling towards them resulted in the frying of their brain. So that's why whenever they thought something loving, they felt extreme pain and the urge to destroy the girls. If you still are confused, you can message me and I'll explain in further detail. **

**I had honestly a blast, and you're all terrific. I can't guarantee when my next story will be, or if it will be quite as long, but I promise I will someday soon. **

**Please read and review, and, Happy Holidays!**

_EDIT:_

_It has been over a year since I first began this story, and it is nearing a year since I have finished it. When I first posted it, I had hoped for some few reviews, some few fans. I could have never imagined the attention it ultimately garnered. Looking back on it now, having reread it a few times every so often, I am well aware it is an amateur posting. So I have not fooled myself into thinking I'm some sort of pro, writing best-selling material (this story aside). However, all of your reviews, the PMs, still mean the world to me. It's you all that bit me with the fiction bug and it's you all that keep me going whenever I doubt myself._

_I can't even describe to you how much it means to me that you still send me PMs and you still post reviews. I still read them all. I know some of you disagree with my choice to kill off Boomer and Brick. I know it was a risky move, but since the beginning it has always felt like the right choice. In reality, there are no true happy endings, and I think it says a lot for Blossom/Beatrice and Bubbles/Belle for still pushing forward, for not letting their deaths stop their life._

_The three girls changed those boys for the better, and they died knowing that there was no other option for them. Butch was lucky—he lived on a technicality._

_I've also gotten questions about Bubbles' pregnancy, and that has also been a constant from the beginning. I'm not one for writing intimacy, I've never been able to do it, so I left that option to you, the reader, as to when and where (and how many times) they did the deed. But rest assured, it was not just shoved in there._

_Anyway, to end this ramble, I just want to say thank you. And never stop reviewing, and I don't mean just for Return or to me. Everyone on here is looking for feedback, so they don't feel like they're writing to no one, and it honestly means everything (at least to me, though I'm sure it's the same all around) to the writer._

_You're all wonderful, amazing people!_


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